Teenage Girls with Cameras
by Soul of Ashes
Summary: Language and violence. Nina runs away from home, gets her arm possessed by a demon, and discovers some new things she didn't know before. And Dante couldn't be less helpful.
1. The Runaway

**A/N**: Hi! I've edited this first chapter, because... because I don't feel like going through and adding a sister to all those other chapters now. So i'll just go into this one and scratch out one itty bitty sentence about this 'Maya' that I completely forgot about since I never expected Nina to actually go home so I didn't consider Maya to even be important. Oops. So anyway. No-sister problem fixed now. Oh yeah. And Katya is now .

**Teenage Girls With Cameras (Slightly edited for consistency)**

The Devil May Cry sign flickered on when the sun crashed for the night, its golden luminescence breaking upon the edge of the world and spreading until it soaked into the horizon. He had boasted of always being open, always taking customers and jobs at all hours - even if it meant waking up in the dead of night to chase a mark through the city. The proprietor was kind of a mysterious dude, but reknowned for getting the job done in highly non-conventional ways.

His damage control needed a lot of work.

Nina was sixteen years old. She was different from most girls her age, who weren't half so clever as they thought they were. She knew her limitations and her talents. Her biggest was stealing. She was a runaway of boredom. Her life was boring; it was like any other sixteen year old girl's life. She'd grown up among the middle-class echelon, been to one wedding where she was the ring girl, attended two funerals; her mom was a home-maker. Her dad made more money as a construction worker, which was considered pretty damn well off in her cowpie of a town. The only remotely out-of-the-ordinary aspect to this mediocre existence was that she went to a dirty high school building that had once belonged to the government serving as a military training facility.

It was fun trying to imagine that there were ghosts of highly gifted, deceased secret agents there. But then the allure was washed out by the repitetion of walking the same dull, army green corridors and going to the same, twenty-by-thirty feet classrooms to learn the same shit she learned in fifth grade. Her life at sixteen had become a series of poorly-filmed clippings by an unsteady camera man blurred together and cut between by blank rolls of film called "sleeping".

Nina finally just decided something was wrong with her to make her feel as if her life was leading her nowhere. It had to be depression, or something totally beyond her scope of existence; before she reached the decision to run away, she searched through her family's mountain of photo albums to uncover its secret.

It was impossible to imagine herself at her next birthday. Or being eighteen years old, or twenty. She was wise enough to realize that she could not sit around ruminating about her life without trying to change it. She also knew that having a boyfriend, or lots of friends, were not conceivable solutions. Most sixteen year olds had boyfriends and lots of friends. Inside, she could tell by their shallow eyes and rehearsed smiles, they were still miserable.

Nina wanted change, bigger than anyone could achive in a lifetime, and she proliferated that by running away from home. She kept running ever since. She wondered many times if this was the most logical choice of action.

Then she found out about _this_ place.

She had learned, through various sources of the city, that Devil May Cry was weird on its own, as was its mysterious proprietor. _Well_, Nina admitted. _It's only because he's a devil hunter, on top of being extremely attractive (according to a colorful, wild testimony of a woman who said she worked at a dance-strip joint Dante visited rarely), and a hedonistic mercenary. A mercenary! It's considered 'cool' to know a gang member's cousin in my town._

The office was its own building, sitting there, two of the letters in its neon sign blinking constantly like a painful eyesore, demanding every iota of attention with its asymmetry. It was blocky and boring, carved out of old stone, plaster, wood, and looked as though it had been rebuilt about two or three times. Some parts of the building looked new while others looked like recycled parts of other buildings. Hard to say whether she ought to be impressed or feel sorry for the insurance company.

She moved across the street from where she had been standing under a yellow streetlight. She studied the big windows on her way to the door. He could see anyone coming a mile away if he just looked outside; she wasn't sure what to make of that. All she knew was that people were saying he was more than just human to do the jobs he did.

She scuttled to the front door, bent low, almost in half, so she wouldn't be noticed. Her thick hair was tied back in a tight pony tail and it pulled uncomfortably on her scalp; a trickle of sweat tickled down between her breasts. She tried the door handle with her breath caught in her lungs, like webbed insects.

It was unlocked. _Duh._ She let out a breath, stole another and held it again as she scooted in through the door, squeezing her larger hips (which she often had complained were disproportionate to the rest of her), through the opening. It was dark. Maybe the guy figured no one would show up after dark.

There was an old jukebox with its own special place; an innumerable amount of records were inside the glass. Near the back wall was a desk and chair, topped with a telephone, a box of pizza and a pair of boots somehow balanced against each other. A ceiling fan was lazily swirling air, but not doing much for the temperature. Just off to the side was a billiard table, a half-finished game on the green velvet.

A kitchen tucked away out of sight, empty glasses scattered here and there. The place really needed a woman's touch; she saw no sign at all of the man, so she stood up and ventured forward across the floorboards which complained with a series of creaks.

She went to the desk, because the alluring scent of pizza - no matter how old or cold it was - needed to be addressed before she thought about maintaining her status as a burglar.

She was, of course, now a hungry burglar. Very hungry. She had her eyes on that slice of pizza and it was the thing that kept her from noticing that the boots sitting on the table were, in fact, quite attached to someone.

She was just reaching for the pizza when the man's figure registered in her peripheral vision.

Her fingertips had stained themselves on the tomato-y goodness; now she was frozen still, staring, straining not to tremble too hard.

His hair was snow white, just like folks told her. His eyes were closed, but he had strong features like people from Italy - she knew because her own grandparents had strong Italian roots.

There was a distorted noise coming from the general region of his nose. _He's snoring._ Somehow, it was a perfectly human thing for him to do. She quickly snatched up a ten dollar bill from next to the box and put it in her pocket. Must've been change. _Mine now_.

She relaxed slowly, and let her fingers find the crust of the pizza. She lifted it slowly, then took one slow step backward... then another...

By the time her anxious, strangled nerves realized her leg had come into contact with something, she knew she was in deep shit when the crash of that something hard and metallic on the wooden floor shattered the peaceful dusty atmosphere. She did the only thing she could think to do and dropped to the floor, shoving the pizza slice into her mouth to muffle her short-breathed whimpers.

She heard him wake up immediately. Something clicked and the mercenary's breath had hitched.

And then it entered into her mind that this man was a cold-hearted killer. _He killed for money. _She was terrified but, in the same token, she was absolutely thrilled. _What a perfectly great way to die._

She stole a glance behind her to see what she had knocked over: a six-foot meat-cleaver that could have taken her arms and legs off with a crunch like cutting lettuce in even less-than-capable hands. It was cruel and the stylized skull seemed to be looking right at her as if to say, "You can't fool me." How could she not have noticed that either?

Slightly disgusted by the feeling of sticky crumbs poking her knees, she heard him move. He slid up to his feet and stepped to one side of the desk. She hid even closer. Luckily this desk had a kind of eave to hide under. She tried to make her fat hips work with her, but it was no use. She reached into her bag slowly, glad that for once, she got a bag with buttons and not velcro. Muffling the snap of release, she slid her hand into her bag and fumbled just for a moment in a panic.

Then she closed her hand on a small rectangular object with a circular-like protrusion. She pulled it out and pressed down the button for it to charge. A camera. That was the best weapon she had, and judging by how dark it was in here, maybe it could stun the guy long enough for her to haul ass to the door.

The pizza-theft victim hummed to himself. When he didn't see anything he should be pointing a gun at, he moved around the table. Nina figured he must be thinking: there was a little mouse in here. A pizza mouse.

Could he smell the pepperoni on her?

When Nina realized that, her eyes flew open and she scooted around the desk, but then she heard two prominent 'thumps' just above her head and looked up. She realized he had jumped onto the desk and knocked the pizza box off of it, placed his hands on his hips and was now staring down at her with irritation printed all over his face.

The pizza slice fell out of Nina's mouth and splatted onto the floor.

He began, "Uh, can I help--"

Nina screamed, thrust the camera up at his face and clicked the button. A bright, blinding flash permenantly pasted his slightly pissy expression on her retina when she ran for the door, fumbled at the doorknob, and then threw it open. To her complete disbelief, what she saw then was still his face. Because he was standing _right in front of her._

"Hey, chill--" She raised the camera, clicked the button, flashed him, screamed again, dropped her camera, and pushed past him to gain the street.

She realized she was laughing in between frantic gasps for air. By virtue of being reasonably charged with adrenaline, she managed to escape Devil May Cry's line of sight. _This is almost fun, you know, in a creepy, maybe-I'll-get-murdered-maybe-I-won't-but-who-cares way._

Her feet dragging as she staggered to a stop next to an alleyway, she panted, half-hoping he wasn't following her. Half-wondering how the hell he got in FRONT of her so fast before she had even opened the door to get away.

Once she recovered herself, she walked on through the streets of the neighborhood to which she had arrived a few days ago on the back of a fresh produce truck. Everything looked closed; it was nigh peaceful, though she was under no illusion that it was safe. She knew that weirdos and maybe even demons also frequented this part of the land. That was part of the reason she came.

When she grew tired of walking, she sought out a lit window and signs. She scampered across a street, nervous to be crossing when there were absolutely no cars to speak of. Would a mercenary call the cops on her? She DID steal money... She wondered if he noticed it was missing.

She stepped into a reasonably clean space. Round, high tables and tall stools were close to the windows. People sat there; it was quite late for a young girl like herself to be out, but strangely this one place remained open. It smelled wonderful, very much like the coffee-cakes she and her mom used to bake together. The taste of pizza had only spurned her stomach to riot in her belly all the harder and renew its rumblings when food seemed close at hand again.

Fingering the ten dollar bill in her pocket, she approached the counter and the tired-looking young man behind it. He was pretty young, with a spattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks. He had tanned skin and strong, lean arms which he leaned on when she came close.

"What'll you be having, miss?"

"Can I have ... can I have a hamburger and a cup of coffee?" she asked, feeling ratty and ugly. She hadn't seen a comb in over three weeks, much less a bath tub or bottle of shampoo.

The man nodded and flashed her a smile that almost shocked her out of her seat. It was as if... just one show of those teeth, and that glint in his eyes, drilled into her and sent an embarassing warmth through her.

She lay her head down on the counter for a minute while she waited. She couldn't believe she was still winded. _But then_, she thought,_ I s'pose running like a bat out of hell for as long as I did will do that to a half-starved runaway._

She had just begun to smell the enticing aroma of burger on a grill when she heard the doorbell jingle and footsteps.

Slowly grasping the probability of the newcomer being the Devil May Cry man, she slowly peeked from over her arm that was sheltering her head.

He wore a long oxblood jacket now. It looked heavy and stiflingly hot. Definitely big enough to accomodate enough weapons to qualify as a walking arsenal of destructive lunacy.

But he didn't look at her from beyond the fringe of snow white hair. The freckle-faced man with the delightful smile came back. He looked at Dante and seemed to freeze for an instant, like a skipping VHS. He tripped on his consonants: "C-Can I g-get you something, sir?"

"Yeah. One strawberry sundae." He smiled suddenly, moving his hand under his jacket. "You new here?"

Nina choked, panic freezing her lungs.

But the man behind the counter said, "Yeah, I'm new."

The hand came out.

But all Dante did was lay a couple rumpled green bucks on the greasy counter. She relaxed, but still refused to turn her head to look at him properly.

When her coffee arrived, she asked for an ice cube. She got two, and when she blew on the coffee for awhile Nina twisted her eyes to look at the man. She could see more clearly now that he was more closer to her age; fine features, didn't seem to mind that he was shirtless under the coat that draped over his frame and bunched up at his hips.

A plate clattered in front of her. She jumped and almost fell out of her seat a record-breaking second time.

"Bon appetite," the man said, and flashed that smile once again. He seemed to stop stammering when he addressed her. She blushed and tucked in to enjoy the meal, but before the first bite could pass her lips, she noticed that the handsome lad was gazing at Dante with barely masked hatred.

Suddenly the snow-haired guy grinned ear to ear. "That's some demon you got there."

Her world turned a brilliant shade of red. The plate, the burger - all fell under her list of 'things-I-couldn't-give-a-shit-about' when the roar of gunfire suddenly pounded against her unaccustomed senses.

She fell off the stool, blinded for a minute, and scrabbled across the floor feeling very much like an insect. She had a perfectly crystal clear view of Dante's legs from here, among a number of things: the Colt .45-looking guns strapped to his hips (one of them was missing now because it was in his hand making enough noise to make her ears bleed) and his sculpted abs, skin so tight that it sort of wrinkled a little where his body was bending.

Then his hand moved down, brushing his naked hip to free the other gun.

And the thunder continued, the second firearm adding to the mayhem.

"Stop it," she croaked, then found her voice, filled her lungs with air and shouted, "Stop that! What the fuck are you doing?!"

Tucking her dirty knees to her chest, Nina watched him get up, hook his ankle around the leg of the stool, and then flip it around and kick it into the chest of a second man who apparently was just another innocent bystander.

_He's murdering these people. He's not a devil hunter, he's a goddamn psycopath!_

She was about to cry out in angry dismay, but swallowed the noise at what she saw next.

Many of the men began to spastically tremble and twist, a pink foam dribbling from their slack, dumb mouths. They weren't screaming and running for their lives; each and every one of them was possessed. As if adhering to some signal, they shed their bodies - it was like watching comedians pull off fairly intricate rubber masks. Blood pumped from vessels, before the demon's true forms took shape without being hindered by their fake bodies.

Nina shut her eyes, her breath caught in her throat. And then there was the _smell_...

Exhaustion and hunger had taxed her. She struggled to stave off fainting until she was sure she could wake up eventually and blindly crawled over dying or dead demons - which seemed to fall to the ground everywhere. She felt Dante run past her and slam a victim against the wall which had been covered with various old prints from the 1920's and up. Now, joining the photos and bits of history were chunks of demon, which melted, then began to smoke and burn away to ash.

Nina barricaded herself behind an overturned table and hoped for the best.

But something wasn't right. She looked around, feeling for her camera. _Maybe_, she thought half-seriously, _if I flash the demons I can get away like I did from Dante._

Too quickly she remembered she had dropped it. Her face heated up brilliantly and she panicked so hard that she dared to lift her head and see where Dante was. She needed - no, she devestatingly _craved_ to have that camera back.

She spied Dante on the other side of the room, cleaning up his handiwork. It was loud and deafening and her head felt like it had filled with cotton; doubtless she'd be deaf in one or both ears for quite some time.

He didn't seem to take notice. In fact, he was so caught up with fighting that he seemed to forget she was even there. More than that, it was the look on his face that kept Nina staring. He seemed to be enjoying himself. Celebrating with a boyish whoop, he skated sideways to dodge the onslaught of the monstrosities. With the massive sword she'd so gracefully tripped over in the office, he sent a demon flailing up into the air; he smoothly swapped for his guns and kept the thing airborne on an endless fountain of bullets, before rising up to smash its face to bloodied paste with his boot.

Nina was so busy staring, she only felt the cold when her skin actually began to burn. By then, she cried out again and turned, shaking her arm instinctively to ward off the pain and whatever was freezing her.

"A...AAH!!! What the hell what the hell is this shit on my arm oh God God help me it's burning--" A long, rambling profanity exploded from her lips as she smacked her arm and then began to sit on it. She glanced up, begging Dante to stop and help, do something...

The cold was creeping up at her arm. She yanked up her sleeve and saw that her fingers were turning purple and her skin a pasty, deathly white.

"OH GOD!" she sobbed, when she tried to close her hand into a fist, and couldn't. She kept trying anyway, all the while working up the desire scream.

The cold had reached her shoulder. Fear had closed its arms around her now and embraced her. This wasn't fun anymore, she realized, not fucking fun at all, and she wanted to go home and wished she'd just stayed--

"It's okay," she said out loud, and surprised herself with her own voice. Calm. Decisive. "It's okay. Just shut--" She shut her eyes, trembling as the cold seemed to stop just at her collar bone. Her heart hammered, then began to slow... and blackness fell over her eyes.

* * *

Dante cooled down long enough to realize that he wasn't alone. The natural high, that hard, pumping, throbbing rush in his veins, was dwindling already. He rubbed his knuckles, and wiped at his face - which in itself was a horror, smearing some demon blood over his cheek.

"Now," he sighed. "Where's Chickie McPizzathief? Hnn." He walked over to a table and knocked it aside.

The girl was laying there, her arm clutched in a deathgrip in the opposite hand. The tips of her fingers were turning dark purple.

For a minute his expression remained nonchalant and smirking, but then - in an instant - it was wiped clean like a slate.

He sniffed. "I still smell demon."

He reached his fingertips toward the still-warm iron in the holster near his back. With a click he considered the girl who was now possessed; she was unconscious, and the pallor of her skin seemed to grow with each and every passing second he deliberated over killing her. She was a little unremarkable - though something about her eyebrows really made her face dramatic and appealing. Bags under her eyes; she was dirty, and aside from the stench of Hell clinging to her like velcro, she needed a bath.

"Sweetheart, looks like you've got it rough." He looked her over, then made his decision.

Shoving the warm pistol into his holster, he crouched and lifted the pale-looking chick by one arm; she was as limp as a water balloon, her head lolling painfully back. He smashed open the door with one solid kick. Being possessed, he knew, wasn't always an automatic death sentence. But in no way did her condition make him feel any ounce of pity. The dame had nabbed some cash and ruined that slice he was saving for a snack; she'd woken him out of a sound sleep, blinded him - twice! - and ran off screaming bloody murder.

Tomorrow morning, he'd have to make sure his neighbors knew everything was peaches and cream.

At the office, he dumped her onto the sofa. She was still out like a light; her fingertips had stopped turning purple now. But rather than being cold, her skin had become burning hot; a sure sign that a devil had invaded her body. Or she could be fatally ill. Either way, it spelled trouble.

He picked up the camera from his desk and kept an eye open for the girl in case she started to move around. He was still prepared to put a bullet right between her eyes if she started to exhibit the usual freak-signs of full-body possession. He turned the camera over, quickly bored with it, and tossed it back on the table.

The half-devil sulked over lost sleep for awhile, nursing a cup of joe. It tasted like shit, and looked worse. He was pretty sure coffee shouldn't have weird things floating in it, but, whatever. Stupid coffee machine.

"See you the morning, kiddo," he muttered at the unconscious girl; a smile on his lips, anticipating all the fun - good _and_ bad - that would ensue.


	2. Breaking Point

**A/N**: ...If one word could some up this entire chapter...

_Bondage._

* * *

**Teenage Girls with Cameras Chapter 2**

Before Nina could open her all too eager eyes and get an eyeful of the morning, Dante had gotten too annoyed with the situation to let himself stay awake. Tomorrow he might get a job and he needed his sleep so he could fully take advantage of the fun - in case, y'know, there might actually be some.

Digging around in a cupboard, he pulled out rope, duct tape, and some dead weights he used to use to work out that he'd lost awhile ago. "I was wondering where these ended up," he murmured with a grin, before sauntering over to the sleepy chick.

* * *

In the midst of a fairly vivid nightmare, Nina woke up. All over the place, demons had been falling dead to the ground; she was crawling, despite her desire to simply get up and run. The nerve-tingling fear of being crushed under those massive, disproportionate bodies still twitching with rage-fueled life, limbs all akimbo, faces all horrible with varying magnitudes of "ugly".

She crawled through blood-muddied earth until she thought sadly how she was beginning to get used to the screams, the chaos...

Lifting her stinging eyes, she saw that the bodies literally rained from the sky. They fell on top of each other, breaking bones, other bodies still moving and crawling feebly as she was, until they regained their former vigor, regaining their feet with ungainly looking legs.

"Who are you?" she whispered to them without expecting an answer.

And then suddenly she felt a clammy, hard set of fingers grip her by the wrist. Her eyes widened and she jerked around to see who - or what - had taken hold.

She met the eyes of a pitifully small demon whose Cheshire Cat smile glowed at me with glowing indulgence. Its arms were fairly elongated, tipped with razor claws, but strangely the claws were curved back so as to spare her flesh from being rendered ribbons.

"We're demons," he - it - said. "Demons fallen from the world above."

Nina said the only thing she could think of: "Maybe you belong here."

The demon's smile faltered. "Don't you want to know why you're here?"

"I'm having a dream. Just a bad dream. Running away - sneaking into that guy's place. I'll... I've got to wake up." Nina pulled her hand. "Now let go, if you please."

"Don't you want to know," the demon insisted, "what happened to your arm?" A taunting, chilling laughter filled the void where the demons were falling. Before she really understood what had happened, what he was really referring to, she glared up and around herself at the beings that had come to see her. They were all laughing at her, or some cosmic joke she didn't understand.

"Your arm," the demon giggled.

Just as her eyes began to swivel down to take in the sight, she saw a dusty, wooden ceiling and rafter rather than her arm.

It took minutes to make her limbs move. Her left arm felt prickly; she tried to move it, shake some life into it, but found that both of her arms and legs had tightly been bound with rope, painfully behind her back, where she had been laying on them for the last several hours.

The teen made a noise; then it all hit her, like an eighteen wheeler, the past several hours crashing through memory flood-gates, drowning her ears in a dull, panicking roar. She started moving around, tossing her head and making a series of mumbled shrieks. Foremost was the bloody indignation in her thoughts. This wasn't fair. She had wanted excitement, but not ... not this!

With a particularly violent gyration of her body, she suddenly rolled. Helpless to stop her descent, she fell off the sofa she'd been tied on. The wood floor resonated with a booming thud of a body falling.

In pain and still angry, she arched her head up, growling and blowing hard through her nose, she tried to make sense of her new surroundings. Not surprisingly, they were familiar. There was that desk; it looked massive from where she was. There was the billiard table, the juke box, and now in the morning light beaming in through the windows she saw a kitchen somewhere through a doorway. Her neck began to burn unrepentently and she laid her cheek down on the filthy floor.

As if on cue, a door upstairs burst open and a familiar set of boots came down the stairs, thump, thump, thump. On the fourth step from the bottom Dante Sparda stopped once he observed the prone figure tied up on the floor in front of his sofa.

A wide grin split his face and he kept going.

The girl was glaring with unwavering hatred. Dante stepped over a stack of pizza boxes and made it over to her. He smelled like shampoo and a drop of moisture from still-damp hair smacked Nina in the cheek.

He crouched, his legs splayed wide as if inviting an attack on his family jewels, which seemed particularly reasonable to attempt, and chuckled laconically as he greeted, "Well, good morning, sunshine! Sleep well?"

Nina loosed as impressive a noise of abject outrage as she could without the benefit of her mouth. Surely the noise could be translated into a litany of profanity directed to insult the quality of his gracious hospitality.

But the devil-hunter wasn't having it. "Don't gimme that mug," he sighed. "You know you're possessed, right?"

A cold trickle of fear entered Nina's stomach again.

The devil hunter rambled on, "Okay, I see you get me. Alright. So, here's my problem." He stood up again, shook out his left leg. Paced. "I see that you're a nice kid. I looked through your stuff--"

Nina bubbled once again in outrage.

"--and you look, y'know, normal. Bad stroke of luck for you. You came into the wrong guy's house, steal his money, and go grab a bite to eat. And pick up a nasty little bug." He stared down at her. "A demon. But, you know, no problem. I was ready to blow your brains out. Demon possession, y'know, spells death for most folks. I can't help it, I just kill the things."

Nina was too busy lingering on the fact that maybe his house wouldn't be so easy to break into if he fell asleep and left his door unlocked to realize he was trying to make a point.

"That's why I tied you up, see." He bent down again and pulled her up suddenly, and fashioned her into a sitting position. "'Cause the way I see it, you're a dead girl. But you haven't shown any weirdness on me yet."

His hand came toward her face. Nina shut her eyes, holding her breath, and as expected, the tape came ripping off with a nerve-wrangling explosion of sensation that spurned an immediately violent verbal response.

"Fucking untie me RIGHT NOW--"

The tape shoved over her mouth prevented her from further outbursts.

Dante glowered at her. "Didn't you hear what I said?" He rolled his eyes in a dramatic fashion. "I can't untie you, girl. Oh, wait. Yeah, it's Nina."

She grumbled non-committally.

He smiled. "Can I take that tape off now?"

Nina rolled thoughts around in her head, then nodded almost imperceptibly. He pulled it off, and the sting of the first time was still there to make her wince.

"If you think I'll believe all that," she said, surprised at the sound of her voice. She forged on, "you're an idiot."

"Whatever." Dante's patience for her attitude had reached its peak, and he was beginning to show a little color in his own. "You want breakfast or not? Otherwise you can just keep sitting there and be my permenant decoration until my partner arrives."

Nina's response was a snort and a wriggle. "Untie me, for God's sake. I'm not gonna _do_ anything."

"Sorry." Dante had already made his way back toward the kitchen. Apparently the b-word had made him hungry, too. She heard him rummage around, and she sighed out loud.

"What are you making?" she called, feeling stupid as she did so. "Y'know, this is totally unnecessary!"

No response. She fidgeted more. The urge to pee had been slowly creeping through her lower abdomen for quite some time. And on top of that, the ropes had slipped a little and chafed into her shoulder. Her eyes watered; she arched her neck to wipe her face on whatever part of her shoulder she could reach. The child in her cried to go home. The part that craved this adventure was rejoiced; and another, growing piece of her, found the aspect of her capture involving ropes more than a little exciting.

All propensities for weirdness aside, her captor wasn't bad-looking. In fact, the way he seemed to walk around in spite of the chill without a shirt gave her something to ponder while he busied himself in his kitchen. She wondered about that white hair, how many bottles of bleach and color-killer he'd used to make it stay that way on a constant basis. Or maybe, she realized, he was born with it. Maybe some demon turned it white in the past.

She was staring at that colorless head of hair when he came out with a plate piled high with waffles, strawberries, and whipped cream.

"You're gonna get fat," she commented dryly, her stomach lurching in her stomach as if to climb out and onto that plate.

"Yeah, yeah," he waved off her concerns. "You're starting to sound like Lady."

"Who?"

"My partner." He threw himself onto the sofa and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, balancing the hot plate in one hand (gloved, she noted, with those brown gloves she'd not noticed before), and stabbing into his breakfast with a fork.

She stared at him while he ate, completely rude and not caring. He shoved obscene mouthfuls and chewed noisily.

"That's just mean," she complained when she'd had enough. "Give me some of that."

"All you gotta do is ask." He speared a strawberry, swiped some whipped cream and obliged her with a mouthful.

If Nina had a weakness for any kind of food, it was strawberries. This was... absurdly sexy, and wrong, but he was feeding her until she couldn't stand to have any more sugar.

He polished off the plate by tipping the remaining juices and soaked crumbs into his mouth and swiping them down his gullet with his fork. He licked the plate around the edges just once, then flipped it and spun it on his fingertip like a basketball.

"I think I'll leave you in Lady's hands when she gets here."

"So, uh... what exactly does 'Lady' do?" She muttered as Dante loosened her ropes just a little, seeing that she was getting a little uncomfortable.

"Walk softly and carry a big gun." Dante seemed ultimately pleased with that description, as it was so utterly apt, and stood up to go put his plate somewhere to forget about it until Lady found it again next week.

Twenty minutes later, the woman in question came in through the front door. She had short, almost-shoulder length hair flipped out, and mismatched eyes - one blue, one reddish brown. Her expression seemed as if it were used to looking severe and almost insane, like her white-haired friend.

She wore a simple white blouse over a black tank top, and a pair of short-shorts, off-white thigh-highs and several adornments for gunware. And the woman really was, literally, a walking gunstore. She had probably about three guns strapped in plain sight, and something strapped over her back that looked almost as tall as she did. Nina had a sneaking suspicion that the large cylindrical object draped with canvas cloth wasn't a telescope.

"Dante, where'd you--" Her brisk walk slowed down to a sedate walk. She had a slight limp, very slight, but Nina saw it. She also saw that Lady was studying her as if she had two heads. Then she remembered: Duh. I'm tied up.

"What the hell is this?" Lady wanted to know when Dante made his presence known by opening his cabinet of Devil Arms. She jabbed her thumb over at Nina.

"Don't get all excited. And before you even ask, no, I'm not that kind of guy." Dante guarded off her accusatory glare with a little half-shrug. "She's got a little demon problem."

"Looks like a rope problem to me." Lady knew what he meant, but she thought that if the chick had gotten possessed... Dante would have saved her the misery and put one between her eyes.

However, the usually callous, self-absorbed devil hunter had a strange way of showing interest. He had gone through the trouble of tying her up and keeping her around. Maybe he'd gotten lonely, or finally - though Lady hesitated to consider it likely - he'd reached a breaking point and lost his mind.

_No_, she decided as she watched him scratch the back of his head, examine his hand, then flick something he'd discovered under his fingernail to the floor. _Still the same Dante._

She watched as Dante stared with barely-disguised malice at Nina when she emerged.

"Dante!" Lady glowered. "And, FYI, if you want to scare the kid so bad, just point a gun at her."

Nina had been listening quietly thus far. Finally, she piped up, "Um, guys? I'm fine. I'm not possessed. And I exercise my right to ask to use the toilet, please." Her impatience cut into her dulcette tones.

"Ask away. Lady, take Miss Nina to the little girl's room, wouldya?" Dante busied himself by checking his phone's messages; it was a cue, Lady guessed, for her to take up where Dante had lost interest, as usual.

When the ropes came off, Nina cried out a little. She didn't realize that being tied up for so long would hurt that badly when the pressure let up; the noises didn't so much as warrant a glance of well-meaning concern from the devil hunter. Nina scowled, feeling her aggravation bubble.

Lady escorted her to the bathroom; she practically threw herself at the porcelaine throne, not even caring how desperate she looked, nor how filthy the bathroom might be. When relief came in the form of a golden stream, she practically swooned.

The door was cracked open, unfortunately; Lady didn't trust her either. She stayed as quiet as she could.

When she washed her hands, she noted all the clothes piled up the corner. Most of them were Dante's. The shower-tub combo was clean; there was a ring on the tub, though, that had seen many scrubbings but refused to come off clean.

Then she looked down at her hand. In particular, she recalled the grim-reaper hold on her arm from the demon in her dream. She heard its mocking question, serrated through her brain. Her fingernails had turned a dark, sickly grey on her left hand.

"Am I really possessed?" she asked, stabbed with homesickness. And guilt. "I'm in so much trouble..."

_But isn't that what you wanted?_ a voice wanted to know. _Exciting, isn't it?_

"Shut up," she hissed, scaring herself.

Lady poked her head in, warily checking the safety on her TEC-9. "You ought to be done by now."

"Coming," Nina murmured, turning the faucet off.

Each step Nina took became a challenge. Her arm suddenly felt like it was burning from the inside out. She clutched at it suddenly, instinctively scratching away the sensation. But it didn't stop; something felt like it was moving through her veins, every tissue convulsing like serpents lived under her skin. She stared as her fingertips blackened, and the rest of her arm took on a slightly ashy pallor.

She barely registered the guns clicking as several sights were fixed on her. She backed up, gaping at her arm, hardly believing that she was seeing something she'd been born with, grew up with, now suddenly - obliterated - by this THING growing in it.

"I'm going to puke." Her vision blurred, and she wavered on her feet. Hot vitriolic fluid rose up in her throat, tasting vageuly of strawberries. She fought the urge to puke as long as she could, meanwhile backing away from Dante and Lady whose weapons were still trained on her. Dante rolled to his feet.

"Don't," Nina whispered. "Oh God don't shoot me."

"Looks like you got it bad," Dante replied quietly, head cocked, waiting for any excuse, just one, to pull his triggers. "Don't run, kid."

"Dante, wait," Lady started. "It hasn't shown its face yet. Maybe it's just hanging on--"

"Trust me. These things don't just 'hang on' for the fun of it. It wants a piece of me, and it's gonna get it one way or the other."

Nina found herself backed up against a wall next to some old posters. Bands like Led Zeppelin, Aerosmith, all of them packed so tightly together no one could see the original wall. She cradled her arm, which still convulsed and twisted like a living serpent.

"I don't want to die!" Nina insisted, breathing hard and fighting off - she didn't even KNOW what - that was taking her over. "I didn't fucking ask for this!"

Dante had heard all these excuses before; he'd built up a calloused layer of indifference to the pleas of possession victims. She gave a sudden sob, and started hitting the wall with the possessed arm, hitting until chunks and flakes of wall and bits of poster started to come off.

"I don't want to die," she gasped, striking the wall as many times as she could, until she was leaving bloody imprints. "I don't want to die! Get off of me! Fucking get off me!" Her words dissolved into a senseless array of screams as she struck at her demon, or rather, the wall, in hopes that somehow beating her own limb senseless would knock the demon right the fuck out of it and leave her in peace. And maybe convince Dante and Lady not blast the top of her skull off.

Dante didn't shoot, nor did Lady, but they both watched in silent grim focus as their eyes ate up the bizarre sight before them. Finally, it seemed her senseless cries of anger and brutal abuse of her own limb seemed to sever the tie between her mind and, well, sanity. But the arm stopped spasming and mutating, and she sunk to the floor, watching her skin bubble and smoke before it began to regain some of its human features: pale pink skin and non-undulating muscles.

Lady's hand wobbled slightly then slowly lowered, seeing that the demon was well in hand (forgive the pun). She looked at Dante, who reluctantly clucked in irritation and thrust the gun back in its place.

"See?" Nina said. "I'm okay." Her quavering smile beamed like sun through dark clouds. "Really. I'm just fine!"

-----

As the heat of the day enroached on noon, Lady had once again taken Nina upstairs, only this time to give her a bath. On the second-to-last-drawer of Dante's dresser she had stashed some clothes in case she needed to stay over before a job. She made Dante grab some while she helped Nina into the steaming bath.

Dante threw open the bathroom door; Nina screamed, jerked her body down into the water out of sight, while Dante was scoured by the collective laser-stares of both extremely irate women. The hormone-driven teenager didn't so much as blush as he turned right around on his boots and tossed the bundle over his shoulder, which Lady caught just in time before it too joined the soaking wet girl in the tub.

"I'm going to kill him," Nina growled as soon as the door closed with a resounding snap. "I can't believe--"

"I know, I know." Lady rolled her eyes in recompense. "I can't believe him either, but just sit tight and wash up. I'm not going to look, but I will keep an ear out for you." And that's exactly what Lady did. She set up camp on the toilet seat lid and methodically changed her bullets for better ones while she heard a splash of water, the splurt of shampoo.

When a soft, "'Kay, I'm done," interrupted Lady from her musings, she thrust a fresh clip into her pistol and put it away. She handed Nina a towel while she was still sitting in the tub. The girl stood up, blushing pink all over from the extreme temperature.

"I'm sorry," Nina was saying on the way downstairs, mostly to Lady, who was going through all this trouble. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have stole from him..."

Dante looked up, hearing this. He felt a tickle of guilt for being so cold toward her. But, he reasoned, she could go psycho any second so he trained his fingers toward the gun at his side. "You should have thought of that," he noted dryly, "before taking off from home." He had been perusing her belongings again, and had been staring for a long time at a photograph of her mother, father, and sister.

Nina's eyes traveled to the photograph that he was holding between his two fingers. Her eyes widened. "H-Hey! Leave my shit alone!"

"Was it worth it?" Dante inquired, flicking the photo at her. She grabbed it out of the air, and tossed him another curse.

"Fuck off," she decided, sitting down at the sofa. "And if you come near me with rope and tape again, I won't think twice about letting this thing rip your dick off."

Dante laughed this off, having heard several insults of the like from Lady on a daily basis when they were first forced to work in a co-operative setting.

"I can already tell you're going to be_ fun_." The half-devil was wearing that smile eternally, his blue eyes sparkling with delight.


	3. Tale of the Possessed Photocopier

: Long-story short, mom's in the hospital for a long long time and I'm in the midst of doing many things in a very very short period of time so bear with me for not updating very often. I LOVE REVIEWS. PLEASE GIVE ME. NOM NOM. Also, I think this chapter is Harry Potterish. I need to srsly stop reading the Death Hallows.

* * *

The following day was a work day, and Dante was taking her on a field trip.

Nina understood that the phone rang and that seconds later, she was stumbling out of the house dragged along behind the red-coated hunter, while she was wearing some ill-fitting jeans donated by Dante and some things from Lady. Nina's hips being slightly wider than Lady's, she luckily wore the same cup-size bra. She gave an indignant curse as he threw her onto the front of his motorcycle - a Harley (somehow that didn't surprise her) - which looked like it had seen better days.

"What does thing run on?" she snapped at him as he struggled with getting the thing to come to life. "Hopes and _prayer_--"

Her voice disappeared under the machine's and Dante's collective whoop of success. She sat back against Dante's chest and clutched at something - anything - which happened to be the handlebars toward the middle where the cracked MpH gauge blinked into life. She hunched her shoulders and felt her entire core tighten into a ball. She stared at her left arm the entire drive.

The streets were definitely different from this perspective - with Dante's arms fencing her in and his hair whipping back, shiny silver in the free sunlight. She gave a little squawk as he took a hairpin turn with far too much acceleration; she felt inertia drag her upper body one way while her legs tightened to keep herself on the crazily shuddering machine.

But something other than acceleration and momentum kept them from toppling over - Dante's leg stuck out to push them upright again and keep them going in the direction he wanted them to. She chanced to steal a look at him; he had a perfectly carefree grin on his lips, and a flicker of red in his eyes.

The joy-ride only lasted so long. They turned down a busy street that had a cafe shop, a preschool fenced in with a little playground inside, and a number of legitimate businesses trying to make their way in the world. Dante screeched to a stop in front of a building; Nina almost went over the handlebars if not for Dante grabbing her around the waist, standing, and taking her with him and pushing her forward to walk up the steps of a building made of marble and stone. It really reminded her of a bank or a post office, some official-looking words on the wall that she didn't have time to read because Dante had been pushing her ahead of him into the fray of several people in business suits, their combined cologne, perfume, and body odor choking her.

In the hot, stuffy confines, she noted several cubicles going east and west, crammed with busy faceless workers like bees in a conglomerate hive.

"Great," she heard Dante mutter as he scanned the place, at the same time realizing they were the subject of many fascinated - and slightly nervous - stares. "Where am I supposed to dig up my client in this mess? Ah."

"Mr. Dante!" squeaked a man as he bustled his way toward them. Papers were literally flying everywhere as he went by. "Mr. Dante! Oh, thank goodness, you made it!"

He squeezed past two fairly big-bottomed individuals and panted as he stood beside the pair. He was a balding man of middle age, unhandsome, and with a slightly peevish set of eyes set too close together and made even more ridiculous by the fact that his glasses magnified them to toad-like largeness. He also wore a gray-black-white

"You're that Darning guy, right?" Dante was quick to ask the essential questions.

"Certainly!" He waggled a laminated ID card at Dante's face dangling, which he promptly repinned to his breast pocket. "And you've arrived just in the nick of time. I've been keeping the police at bay for several minutes; the less people know about this, the better!" He whispered this last in a conspiratory tone. It was then he noticed Nina clinging white-knuckled to the doorknob behind her as if she were afraid of getting swept up in the chaotic mayhem of the office building.

"And who's _that_?" he said nasally. "That doesn't look like your partner on the website."

"That's 'cause she's ... my new publicizing agent," Dante explained, prying her fingers off the doorknob with some effort, and waving her hand at Mr. Darning. "Say hello to Mr. Darning, Ms. Nina."

"H-Hi?" Nina blanched with anger. Why did he have to look at her like she was a furry insect?

"I see." Mr. Darning's toad eyes fixed themselves back on Dante. "Well, hurry this way please. The... problem's with the copying machine."

"I'm not a fix-it man!" Dante objected as Mr. Darning waded back through the crowd.

"You'll just have to see!" he called back. "Please, hurry!"

Nina grinned up at Dante. "Well, you're a bust-shit-up kind of man, actually."

Dante wrinkled his nose slightly but it seemed to amuse him as he chuckled, picking his way through the ocean of people.

A series of yellow 'danger' tape was wrapped around the copier machine. It seemed to sit among its ordinary brethren with a sort of menace. Maybe it was the way its front appeared to glower at their approach. Nina's left hand prickled as she drew near it. There was definitely something wrong here but...

"Why a copying machine?" Nina asked Dante.

He lifted his shoulder and dropped it. "Beats me."

"Please... try not to break it! We've already used up almost all of our budget for this quarter... and can't afford to replace it!" The toad-faced man seemed to tremble behind a very ugly vase, peering at them.

Dante pinned Nina with a look as he instructed, "Stay." Like she was some kind of dog. Then he approached the copier machine and put his hands on his hips. Nina glowered at his shoulders, but for awhile she began to wonder how he was going to exorcise - it sounded perfectly ridiculous - a copying machine.

The thing seemed to mock anything that looked at it. With so perfectly ordinary a thing. Its buttons and glowing interface seemed to pulse with a demonic light for Dante's examination. He seemed to grow immensely frustrated, and very silent. He stood up, opening the thing.

"Give me a piece of paper with something on it," he said to Nina, who squeaked in surprise, as she was daydreaming, and then turned to get something. She handed it to Dante, who put it on the clear glass tray, shut it, and hit the large round teal green "Start" button.

The machine lurched, and gave a noise, and the flashing white light scrolled down to scan the image on the paper. He pulled a gun, watching, listening to the sounds, and waited for the copied image to emerge.

However, at the recieving end of the machine, no paper came out. Instead, something black and dripping took form, collecting in the tray. Its viscous limbs seemed to lurch out and attach itself to more of the tray, and then pull its gooey mass forward even more. Then some of the blackness formed into a bulbous ball, which opened up... and revealed rows of teeth. The sound that issued forth from the maw made Nina feel immediately nauseated. She covered her ears.

The thing promptly leapt toward the first thing it could 'sense' - as it didn't have any eyes - but was driven purely by malice and hunger. Dante lurched backward, and shot it a dozen times, only to have it split apart and come back together whole, and try its assault again.

Nina jumped back when it set its sights on her. The unnerving mouth gaped open wide... and then spat a green globule of saliva at her. She shrieked and swatted with her left hand; it touched her skin and smoke rose, hissing, from where the vitriolic spit began to eat away at her skin.

She screamed again. Mr. Darning yelped and fled at once as fast as his fat little legs could carry him.

"Dante!"

The devil grunted, drawing his sword in exchange for gunfire. He advanced on the little black blob, which appeared to sense the presence of the sword Rebellion, slayer of demons. It issued a terrified squeak and began scooting with that strange slurping sound to hide behind one of the office file cabinets.

But the sword was faster than the blob; it was severed at once down the middle. The marks of where it had been cut seemed to sizzle, turn bright red, and then the thing hardened into a blackish coal substance and crumble into dust.

Nina, still cradling her left arm, waited for Dante to figure out what to do next. Apparently whenever someone photocopied anything, one of those black little bastards jumped out and spat acid on everything. That much was obvious from the severe burns in the carpet and the flooring material beneath it. "How's your arm?" Dante asked.

"Not surprising but it's surviving." She shook the goop off her arm and watched her skin seal up, her face still a grimace of pain. "I don't think it's going to let anything happen to me."

Dante merely rolled his eyes, and grabbed a blank sheet of paper from a stack of fresh printing paper. He stole a sharpie marker from someone's desk in the next room, and started to scribble on the paper, holding it up against the wall. Nina tried to make sense of the weird shapes being painstakingly etched into it.

When he was done, fifteen minutes had gone by. Mr. Darning had come back, and seemed to be impatient. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to the paper.

"Something for our little demon to chew on." He took the other paper out, replaced it with the strange drawing, slammed the lid shut, and punched the green "Start" button once again.

Nina stepped back as the machine began to go through the noises and the scrolling light once again. Dante was grinning ear to ear, hands resting on the holsters of his twin pistols. Nina would have given anything to know what was going through his mind, or what was really on that paper.

Suddenly the machine gave a lurch and seemed to spasm from inside. It jumped an inch to the left, then to the right. Smoke billowed from underneath and around the holes. The lightbulb inside flickered and turned red, and flickered more rapidly. A deep-throated groaning sound issued forth from the complicated depths of the machinery.

Dante merely waited, that smile spreading even more. Nina stepped back and found shelter behind an ugly potted plant.

And suddenly the lid flew open, and the paper seemed to shoot upward, the black sharpie marker ink having turned a brilliant scarlet. The paper jerked left and right and back and forth as if fighting something off.

Dante whipped out the pistols and filled the paper full of holes, the boom of the guns bringing several cries of terror from the cubicles in the next room. The paper fell to the ground in bullet-hole riddled scraps.

"Wh-Why did you shoot the paper?!" Mr. Darning demanded.

Nina grasped the concept at once. "Whatever he wrote on that paper must have drawn the demon out of the machine and into the drawing or the paper itself. When the demon tried to photocopy the image..."

Dante made an inappropriate sucking sound, then a popping noise. He grinned. "Right into the paper. And then it's royally screwed." He proudly jerked his chin up and laughed. "Learned that from some Japanese chick."

Mr. Darning inspected the machine after he'd written Dante's paycheck, which only proved that the man was just as eager to get back to business as Dante was for leaving. Nina followed him to the door and was about to congratulate him on a job well done when:

"AGGHH!! IT'S BROKEN!! EVERYTHING'S ALL MELTED INSIDE!" The despaired wails continued for some time. Dante quickly pulled Nina onto the motorcycle to escape the wrath of Mr. Darning.

"Awesome-sauce," Nina said. "But you know he's gonna end up billing you later."

"Long as he does it over the internet. I don't want to have to see his ugly mug again."

They rumbled into the least busy-looking traffic lane, diving in and out of traffic to get back to their own office.

* * *

"It doesn't appear to want to let me get hurt," Nina said, looking at her arm when they got back. The acid glob had burned her well enough to leave horrible scars, but now all that was left was a white mottled discoloration about the size of a quarter. She rubbed it and frowned.

"That's nice," Dante said, counting his money. "But you got in the way."

"You never gave back that sharpie!" she retorted, scowling. "You should have left me here like you said you would."

Lady came out from the kitchen with two cups of yogurt and two spoons. She gave one to Nina and straddled one of Dante's rickety chairs. As she spooned some strawberry yogurt into her mouth, she said something to Nina.

"What?" Nina stirred her yogurt vigorously before eating it.

"I said," Lady clarified, "Are you going to call your parents?"

"I can't call them. What the hell am I going to say? 'Hello, mom and dad, I've been kidnapped by demon hunters and oh yeah, I seem to have come down with a mild case of demon possession but I'll be home by eight'?"

"Exactly," Dante butt in cheerfully. "That's what I would say. Except mention that your male captor's hot and talented and--"

"You're just saying that to get on my bad side again, aren't you?" Nina wanted to throw her yogurt at the cocky bastard, but it would be a waste of good food.

"Enough, you two." Lady waved her spoon at Nina threateningly. "You really should call them. Honestly, you're an idiot for running away in the first place."

"I know," Nina said, if only to get Lady off her case. She really didn't see why she ought to care. In fact, she wished they would both just leave her alone about running away. It was her choice and, being sixteen, she considered herself far more mature than most girls who ran away. She had sought her own independence for a long time. She saw an opportunity when her parents were out and took it.

"I don't think you do."

"Listen, just back off!"

Dante stuffed cash into his pocket. "Down, girls. Listen, Nina, I'm going to take you to see a friend of mine, and she'll be able to help you out."

"You're going to take her to see Miruku?" Lady tipped her head over at Dante. She'd heard about Miruku... and had been sort of skeptical.

Miruku was a mystic of some renown in the supernatural world. It was said she had given away half her soul to a being of light in exchange for the gift of seeing. No one really quite knew what other weird stuff she dabbled in. When Dante needed to do a job with a little magical finesse, she was the chick to hook him up... and the price was set pretty high at least for decorum's standards.

Dante didn't say so, but she saw his cheeks flush red when she asked him what the price was.

Lady was not comfortable with the idea of dragging Nina off to see this creepy Japanese mystic woman. So little information was Dante willing to share about Miruku. She decided she was definitely going with Dante on this little expedition.

However... "What? Now you wanna help me instead of shoot me?" Nina scraped strawberry flavored yogurt from the cup noisily and angrily, knees tucked up to her chest as far as they would go.

"You really want me to answer that? Or, y'know, maybe you should just say thank you." Dante suddenly loomed over her, and she hadn't been watching him get up and approach, but he was leaning over and pushing her chair backwards so only two legs touched the floor. She squeaked slightly.

"So, okay... I-I'm sorry. Thank you. I'll go see this lady."

"'Cause you said you don't wanna die. Quite clearly! Am I right?" His nose was inches in front of hers, and his eyes seemed much larger this close than before.

Nina felt a twinge in her left arm, and her lips pursed, nodding erratically. He smelled nice-not-nice, of the soap in the shower she used and the sweat, blood, and gunpowder he was always in contact with. She didn't know what to make of it, but it was making her head spin.

"Then shut the heck up about it! Jeez." She suddenly felt herself falling forward until she was jolted out of her weirdness by the chair righting itself. She trembled for a few seconds as the devil hunter got his tools of the trade. He knew, like the others did not, that he could easily drop in unannounced; Miruku did not make "appointments". She functioned as a kind of anamoly. She was available, or she wasn't. Plain and simple.

* * *

: It ends crappily. Mainly because I need to tell everyone that I might be on on a necessary hiatus, just because of me moving, packing, shifting things around... yeah, things are hectic... but I'm rather happy. Plus I need to let my brain chew on some plot bunnies for awhile. Heh, heh. 


	4. The Holy and the Unholy

**A/N**: Those bunnies are tasty.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Dante was given over to fits of not speaking, for whatever reason that blossomed in his chaotic mind. He seemed to float around the place as he prepared himself mentally for the visit to Mikuru. The preparations involved a lot of kicking things, pushing things and sighing loudly. Add in a lot of pacing and growling vigorously, and that was Dante, who seemed to burst with restless energy and indecision. Nina was sitting with her arm tucked into a long sleeve, because the sight of it somehow must have bothered the devil hunter. She poked at a bowl of cinnamon and sugar cereal in milk, too distracted by the white-haired devil hunter to care about munching on her favorite snack.

At last, he flung himself bodily onto his sofa, kicked his feet up with a mild attitude, and scowled scathingly at the television. It was on mute, but there were angry rockers headbanging on a spastically lit stage. He shut it off with an angry click of the remote and tossed it to the side before considering the mound of heaped fast food Lady had been conned into buying a little while ago.

Nina leaned away from him. "Ready?" she asked, geniusly manuvering a dribbly mouthful of cereal beyond her lips.

"Can I ask you a favor?" Dante said, looking at the stairs and listening hard before he turned his electric blue eyes on the young teenage girl. His conspiratory tone seemed to fill her with a buzz of closeness. She gave a little nod of her head, slurping and munching simultaneously.

The devil hunter pushed back his hair with his hand, laughing nervously. "Can you not tell Lady about anything you see or hear in there? I don't want to freak her out. She hates any supernatural stuff way more than I do. In fact, she's got more reason, in my honest opinion."

"Wait, so what--"

"It's not something respectable Ladies ought to know, but Mikuru's... special." He leaned closer, swept the cereal bowl out of her hand and munched on a few spoonfuls. He handed it back as he lunged from his sofa and started toward the door, his weapons already lined up for the taking beside it.

Nina shifted her butt to the edge of the sofa before crawling off, running to the kitchen to put her bowl in the sink. She had to get used to the way Dante just _took off_, without any hint or exclamation beforehand! When she found herself panting by the pavement outside in the chilling air, Dante's back was facing her as he looked to the direction of the darkening sky - their apparent destination.

"Special?" Immediately Nina thought that maybe this Mikuru was actually a secret girlfriend or a wife or something. She blushed, uncomfortable with the idea that she felt slightly possessive over Dante. But that was okay, because no matter how much she thought he was cute, some part of her absolutely abhorred the guy. She knew she disliked him for a few very good reasons. Were any of them viable reasons in the court of her mind? Or was it purely out of the fact she had a demonic presence in her body that directly swerved her opinion of him? "Dante..."

"I don't wanna talk about it," he concluded firmly, then started walking off, hands shoved in his pockets and his shoulders hunched. Nina scowled with dissatisfaction. She ran after him.

"Fine, keep the devil possessed girl in total ignorance," Nina sighed, feeling a headache coming on. The afternoon sky was bright and beautiful and all that goodness; the sunlight was giving her a killer migraine. She slunk behind him and scratched at her arm, which felt swollen and irritated. The skin between her fingers was drying out and everything else looked as if it was turning a shade of dark gray. She shoved her hand into her pocket, wishing maybe she could get to a store and buy a glove that went up to her elbow. It would look stupid if she just had one, so maybe she'd keep the pair. Her body was beginning to ache too, and it was not just because she was running around more. It was a feverish ache, the sort like the one she got last year when she took two weeks off of school and had to go to the hospital and everything...

Come to think of it, she didn't remember much about that whole week. The doctor explained with a friendly, coddling smile that it was the fever. Sometimes when people become ill, their minds erase what was happening during that time because of the rising body temperature. He had also said that it was too much trouble to try to remember. Nina was better now and that was all that mattered. That doctor's creepy factor was massive; that much she did remember.

She kept close behind Dante as he walked toward a hulking building that seemed to love glass windows and doors; everything seemed lame and old, yet it glowed like a good old gal still going strong. The building was hugely isolated in the midst of an abandoned housing development. The paint was chipped and the lights were yellowed and flickering. The sign said, "Dolly's", the lettering flanked on the end with a woman in neon lights posing provocatively. There were three stories and it seemed to take up an entire city lot on its own. Cigarettes and booze were the smells that got her attention. Then there was too much perfume floating from the windows. It was a little sickening; she knew somehow that this was not the kind of place young teenage girls should go if they knew what was good for them. Tinkling glass and music and raucous screaming and laughter boomed from within, and it almost pounded her thoughts right out of her head.

Nina tightened her grip on her urge to speak and gave Dante a slightly scared look. But he seemed to be ignoring her in favor of getting in and out of this place as soon as possible. How much time did she have before she started to have another kineption fit with the arm?

Nina's bad feeling grew stronger as he pulled open the glass door and directly by-passed the muscled gentlemen who were bouncers of the joint.

Unable to help it any longer, she asked, "Does this Miru-chick really work here?"

"Ssh!" Dante said. They were sliding around people who were seated - packed full - at little tables around a projecting stage that glittered and gleamed fantastically in a furtive red spotlight, and she instinctively averted her eyes from the women showing off their lady-bits for some easy cash. They looked like demons themselves, and one man's eyes looked as red as the spotlight as he glanced at the two newcomers before he turned his attention back to the flesh display on the stage. Like him, other men's greasy faced were eagerly turned toward the women or bent close in confidental conversation. If this was the place to talk about serious stuff, this was the place to do it - no one would know or overhear anything that was not meant to be heard.

She clamped her hand around Dante's elbow; he gave her a quick look to check on her, but it was over when he found a way around the stage toward a pair of doors in a darkened corner that would probably be rightly called "the back".

The devil hunter pushed open the pair of doors with his free hand while Nina staggered over a surprisingly tall step she did not see coming after that. She grasped his arm and pulled herself right again, hopping and skipping down a long hallway that took a sharp left turn. The smoky, weird-smelling hallway had several doors and more bouncers waiting, but no one seemed to bother Dante as he went for an elevator door directly at the other end of the hallway.

Nina pressed as close as she could to him. This sucks, she thought. I'm acting so scared and I don't know why.

The elevator doors opened and complained with a metallic groan of gears on gears. "Dante, can I talk now?" she ventured as she huddled against his side.

"Yeah. Just don't freak out while I'm in there."

"You're leaving me?" Her voice shrieked with disbelief.

"I'll come out to get you when I'm ready. Or do you want to go back outside and wait by yourself in the parking lot?"

"N-No!" She flinched and moved her left arm behind her. It was getting painful for her shoulder to do that. She prayed he wasn't going to notice it, or she was in deep shit. So far she could not tell at all whether he was catching on or if he was too involved in his own thoughts about this encounter with a Japanese mystic.

"So, like I said, don't freak out while I'm in there, or this whole trip'll be a little pointless. I don't want to fill you full of holes in the middle of a strip joint." He seemed suddenly full of smiles, as if that would be the coolest thing to do, which was totally incongruent with what he just said.

"Yeah," Nina said, "that would be hard to explain, don't you think?" She rolled her eyes and pulled away from him a bit. "I'll be fine. I just have this sick feeling in my stomach that something's wrong."

The elevator lurched to a stop with a feeble ping and there was no more time to talk. She shuffled after him into a much darker hallway that was cleaner. There was a faint aroma from downstairs that still pervaded here, but it was not as strong and something else, something almost flowery, drifted from two doors down on the left. She grasped for another moment to ask him something.

"Dante, wait," she hissed. "I want to know - what is it she wants from you - I wanna know. It isn't bad, is it?"

A look of deep consternation actually blossomed on his face, and he took a minute to stop and lean his hand on his hip, jarring her grasp on his elbow. She let go and huddled against the wall and waited for an answer, her shoulders all hunched. She sniffled and shivered with cold.

"This gal exchanged her soul with a being from Heaven. I don't like to say that, Heaven and all that. That's just what goes around. Anyway, in return she recieved some very acute powers and she hides in a place like this so people don't come banging her door down for a quick reading. And she's good, so I'm going in there to find out what I can do for you."

"How do you know she'll talk to you?"

"I'm on her level of 'supernatural', if you wanna put it that way. Now stay put until I come out to get you."

Nina nodded, sliding her hands into her pockets and turning her hood up. There was not a single sound up here, so she felt like every word they whispered was heard by whoever was waiting beyond the doors here.

Dante gave her one look to check that she was all right, in more ways than just... "comfortable", and then he covered the distance from the elevator to the door he wanted. He had checked his sources earlier and made sure that this was the place Mikuru was still haunting. Every hair on his body bristled when he went to the door in the way that it did when he stepped out into the sunlight on a cold spring day, getting the first taste of summer before it actually warmed up. He turned the doorknob, opened the door and waiting for a minute as he let his eyes adjust to the unusual brightness of the room. Then he stepped inside and let the door swing shut behind him.

The room was square, cluttered with various objects on bookshelves on every wall except one. This led into a short hallway that presumably led to a bathroom and bedroom. The source of the immense light was a series of brightly burning white candles that took up space on a multitude of little round tables. Expectedly, there was a sofa facing away from him as he entered, and he stepped around it. A bed predominantly took up the rest of the living room space. Its sole occupant, and the woman in question, was nowhere in sight... yet.

It was a rather welcoming, warm room, with the candles burning cheerfully, and each object seemed as random and individual as a piece of artwork in a museum. There was a bowl of acorns on a table, joined by a statue of an elephant and a small aloe plant. He rubbed the back of his neck and stood in front of the sofa, waiting, wondering if maybe he came at a bad time.

However, just as he was about to think of leaving (while he still had a chance), a second entryway caught his attention with movement. It was shielded by jade beads; a black-haired woman with porcelaine skin inched forward, holding one hand out to feel her way. Her hair was fully long except for her bangs, which were layered and tapered a bit away from her eyes. A pale pink kimono covered her somewhat slenderized shape, and flowed magnificently around her.

However, her attention seemed snagged by Dante. She fixed her dull eyes on him, and he shuddered as if she were peering right through him. "Dante Sparda," she said, as if she could hardly be surprised by his arrival. "Please sit." She swept her hand toward the general direction of her bed. Instead, he sat on the sofa, which made her smile nonetheless.

"Mikuru. Been a long time, hasn't it?" Dante began in a sort of impersonal drawl. "You're still pretty, just to let you know."

"Flattery again?" said the Asian mystic, beginning to seat herself on the bed, crawling across the mountain pillows, and finally situating herself with her legs folded beneath her and her hands laying across her lap. "You know that does not work on me. But I digress."

"Yeah, I know. And I'm sorry about last time. It was an honest mistake."

"You are an intelligent young man, demon hunter. But some things are better left unchallenged."

Dante looked a might uncomfortable, but after awhile he forged along with his purpose: "I've got a friend who has a problem. She's been possessed, and before too long, she's going to lose her body completely to this thing and I'd rather not see that happen."

Mikuru cooed with slight fascination, lifting her hands and delicately covering her eyes. "Oh, you are so transparent. This is a special case that you brought her to me. But I do not understand. You want her to be rid of her demon?"

"Yes." Dante leaned forward. "That's kind of the point."

"Then why don't you kill her? Would it not save you the trouble of going about it the hard way?"

"She's not like... usual people. And trust me, I don't like walking around innocent folks with her, a ticking time bomb. I don't like putting people at risk like that. Jeez, if this is going to be twenty questions-- just tell me how I can help the kid out." His voice gained a sort of gruffness, a burning impatience blazing a ragged hole through his usual cool.

Mikuru didn't respond. She lowered her hands from her eyes again and gave him a steady look that once again made him bitterly uncomfortable. He leaned back a bit as if to put some space between them. In a few seconds, he understood why she was giving him a hard time. Her uncanny ability to see right through him was only due to the fact that every ounce of her power was vested in her by some higher power - something holy. It made him especially weak against her gift, and he had made her promise to leave his Fate to chance. He did not want to know anything about it at all. He phrased it especially, "I like surprises". However, it was part of the bargain that he should hear a piece of his own unusual destiny before she give him any advice for other matters. Call it an 'appetizer from the beyond' that helped her open her mind to the divine power that she commanded. In that case, it was why he was sorry from an incident from before. The last time he tried to make a bargain, he refused to give himself over to her gifted sight and ended up paying for it by getting his ass handed to him.

"You know what price it is I ask," she warned slowly, "and for you it is a high one. I have a vision about you and you must hear it before I give you any advice."

Dante braced himself mentally and emotionally. "Yeah, I know. Give it to me so we can just get this over with!"

"You're so willing this time." Mikuru sat up a little higher, beckoning. "I can see into your heart, Dante. This is a grave matter; you care very much for humans, and you want to see that this one remains unharmed in this challenging time for her. Come closer and let me See where your destinies lead you."

The devil hunter hesitated just for a minute, grasping for some kind of encouragement. But it was that poor girl in the hallway, and he remembered the way she cried when she was sleeping. Damn it. He was too much of a badass to fall for shit like that. But she was in mortal danger of being damned forever, and she had a whole life ahead of her. He stood up and left his weapons on the sofa, unstrapping the massive sword that made him feel utterly naked without it. His guns, and his shotgun, and even Cerberus, the three-ended nunchaku. He crept onto the bed, smirking only for a second before he laid down, facing the ceiling.

"Holy Ones, come to me. Help this half-demon on his path to Salvation and bring to him wisdom that only Divine eyes can see." She touched his forehead, and with that contact was pain that felt unbelievably real. It was like a nail being driven into his face, and he clenched his teeth, determined not to cry out.

"Dante Sparda, will you allow it?" She covered his forehead with her entire hand, and the other moved just an inch above his chest. "Dante, answer yes or no."

Tongue leaden with pain, he managed, "Yes" before he braced himself further, his hands clenching fistfuls of virgin white sheets. A glowing pall of white enveloped him immediately, and it drew out like black ink the demonic energy that was in his very genes. The contending forces of Hell and Heaven twisted together into a tightening cord. He felt her hand crushing his chest, so hard that he couldn't breathe. He battled it out, trying to force himself from losing total awareness of the occurence. He tapped into his demonic power, trying not to fight her off as this was also for his benefit and Nina's also.

"You are a warmongering monster. When you defeat your enemies, you thirst to watch them writhe in agony and hunger for your victory. It excites you to watch the devils fall, but what you do not know--" Mikuru lifted her hands from his body, releasing him from the bright white blanket of holy energy that was pummeling him. He got his first breath and wiped at his face, clamoring to get off the bed and away from her. God, that stung so bad!

"--you become a demon yourself. Are you doing it for the right reasons? And... be careful, very soon, of your demon possessed girl."

Dante reacquired his weapons and forced himself to listen to her. "What?"

"She's about to release her demon." She looked sickened by the thought of it. "In the hallway. It won't be possession, but you must keep her safe from danger."

"How do I save her?!" Dante demanded, leaping across the sofa to the door. He wanted an answer, and he wanted it now; he didn't just go through all that really uncomfortable weird shit only to not get an answer! But she merely covered her face and uttered a low moan that sounded - not an answer at all but an admission of helplessness. He scowled and turned to throw her door open and charge into the hall, slamming the door shut behind him to mark an end to the unsuccessful transaction.

* * *

The walls seemed to be shutting her inside a place Nina didn't care to be in. Nina's heart pounding, she sank to the floor to sit down and that helped to abate the sudden spell of dizziness she continued to suffer. It was like a bad, bad sugar trip when you've had too much of that citrusy soda-y drink - what was it called? - and it got her high and weird and fuzzy inthe head. But this wasn't fuzzy, but rather clear. In fact, every detail seemed razor sharp and painful, from the rather nice subdued blue of the walls to the floral pattern carpet beneath her. She craned her head back and shut her eyes, breathing through her mouth, trying to eliminate her senses. 

Hardly three minutes passed and she was aching to know what Dante was doing in that room, what he was giving up in exchange for help. For HER. It wracked her with guilt. She scratched her left arm until it started bleeding a little and she wrinkled her nose. "That's what you get," she muttered. "Thanks a lot, you little shit - thing - whatever you are. My life is ruined because of you and now I--"

Her words choked off like someone dropping a stone on her chest. She barely gasped at all; instead, she wheezed and clutched her fingers to her mouth to keep from screaming. It hurt so bad, so hard, and when she looked at her skin it was losing all color from her wrist where her sleeve ended to her fingertips, which were rapidly turning blue. Then black. She kicked out her legs and her heels thumped on the floor.

"_Dan_--" Again it felt like the air was being squeezed out of her. She fell onto her side and rolled into the middle of the hallway, her voice mute as she silently screamed. All over her shoulder and biceps it felt like needles were being quickly, rapidly thrust into her skin, and it was worse than if she had fallen asleep on it. It was as if something were squeezing her muscles to make them move; she watched in helpless horror as she raised her hand, which was totally black at this point, its skin curling and melting, only to reshape into... into something like armor, or something-- only she didn't really care because watching it was almost worse than the pain it caused her.

Finally she let loose a wailing cry, rolling over onto her arm and trying to staunch its movement. She rolled again until she had herself crammed into the corner of the opposite wall, her fingernails scraping on her jeans as if to struggle for freedom.

"DANTE!" She howled. "Dante-- oh God, it's pushing--" She grabbed hold of a door knob, not really knowing for sure if it was being used and if so, she hoped no one would get pissed because she did not really give a damn if someone shit a brick about the fact that she was mangling the doorknob with her metal-mangling grasp. She was on her feet in a moment, unsteadily gaining control over the arm, and sobbing with hot, salted tears streaming down her mascara-ruined face.

"Please stop," she whispered. "Please... why... why are you doing this to me, man?" Nina's words fell on deaf ears. Instead, she only felt herself grow weaker with her pointless helplessness. Then she turned around, facing the elevator, her left arm now forcefully issuing a smoky energy that wraped around her sweatshirt and burned some of the fabric off.

Prying the sliding doors open with its massive scythe, a demon poked its other hand out to gain leverage and then its skeletal visage emerged, followed by a series of hellish chattering noises as its pupilless gaze found a fix on Nina's trembling, diminutive body. Its skin seemed to crawl with an otherworldliness, a now familiar demonic aura that she could almost taste lapping against her skin; it was wave of dry heat that made her skin prickle almost pleasant... if only she didn't know what this really was.

Then she got an answer from somewhere within her head (which prompted her to think she had totally lost it now). The voice raked talons all over her brain cells and made sense at last somewhere in her language processing section. _Let me help you destroy these demons, and you can keep your body as you like._

"Help you--" She stammered... but then rather rudely the scythe from the elevator came howling toward her, a black comma putting a dramatic pause on the entire exposition. The demon's thoughts ended with a clang when she merely ducked her head and prayed for a miracle.

The miracle sprang from her left arm and deflected the scythe, but it jarred her entire shoulder cuff and she lurched sideways and landed on her butt in the hall's center. She stared at the scythe firmly clamped in her now fully-armored arm. It was almost spinous, like a bug's carapace under a microscope, but it rather reminded her of the exo-skeleton of a scorpion, only with many defensive-looking things ending in lethal points - particularly around her knuckle-joints. The entire limb was thus covered in black, purply-iridescent demon-mail. She gulped and looked toward the other demon who was now extricating its body from the elevator.

"Run!" Leaping to her feet, she dropped the scythe immediately and went for the door - her left arm politely bashing it totally open so she could get in, eliminating her hope that she could maybe shut it and lock and push a sofa or something in front of it. No, there was a gaping splintered hole of a door. She pushed her way into the room beyond and ran to the window.

_What are you doing?_ the demon growled. _Fight! Don't you care about your honor?_

"Not really." She punched through the glass, wincing at the destruction, but in a way it kind of pleased her because the pain of transforming her arm was gone, and punching that glass didn't really hurt either. "I'm getting the fuck out of here."

Finally the demon that possessed her clenched her by the throat - she stared in horror as her left hand came around and suddenly closed around her neck, and she felt all of those sharp spines dig into her skin just enough to really, really hurt. _Do as I command. Fight the demons, and you may keep this vessel as your own._

She struggled only for awhile - if she tried to pull on her left arm with her right hand, she'd end up tearing the skin off her fingers and palm. Instead, she relaxed and turned toward the doorway where she had come through. This looked like a regular old apartment but it smelled old and dusty, and its denizen would not miss it much since it seemed so very unused. Maybe she could fight here; she could not worry about how much crap she was breaking in here. Finally she relaxed, and hoped that her physical attitude was a good enough answer.

Slowly the monstrous limb relinquished its deathgrip on her tender neck. She gasped, turning toward the door. "Don't come any closer," she warned the intruder barging in that very second. She inched her way forward, trying to put furniture in between herself and the other monster.

The scythe was back again. Her eyes found her mark. She wanted to lure the thing into swinging, assuming it would not swing it very fast, and punch it in the nutsack (assuming it had nuts), and then she would try and take that stupid head off with a good old-fashioned left hook.

But as long as she was frozen there, her eyes glued to her adversary, she could not move. Nina was just a teenager, and though she knew what she wanted to do, her fear was overwhelming her. This was a DEMON, not some school-yard punk. Her eyes blinked twice to clear them of tears. Then she ran toward it, just as it was lifting the massive scythe into the air so high that it pierced the ceiling, Crumbling plaster fell on head and it caused her to miss her exact mark, but the massive blow caused by the left arm jolted the monster out of its attacking stance and into the coffee table. It fell backwards onto it and screamed unholy wrath. Her ears slowly filling with a sort of white noise that had to have been her blood rushing, she jumped on the demon and trusted her left arm to do the work. She watched herself pummel the creature with bloodthirsty fervor, her right hand merely trying to hold onto something such as the dusty fabric of the demon's cloak.

Nina speculated that the longer she punched it, the more likely it was that she wasn't going to die, so she kept on going and going until the thing was beginning to crumble into a pile of ashen, coal-like dust that seemed to burn and then cool down in seconds. She was punching at the dust, through the wood of the busted coffee table, and into the floor; that's when she heard it. That's when she heard Dante's voice.

"Hold it right there. I think I remember saying, 'please _do not_ freak out on me.'"


	5. Escape and Evade

**A/N:** Okay, so to explain where I'm coming from with this fic... I guess it's safe to say it's partially based on the anime and based on the game. In the game, it looks like everyone we've met knows about demons, but it's never specifically stated if their common knowledge to just about everyone. I'm assuming that normal people are ignorant of their existence. So here's where I stand: Nina comes from the normal side of things, living in existence... and may have a chance of entering her normal life with this forbidden knowledge. With that said, you can safely read without worries...

* * *

Two glistening gunbarrels were staring her down from the doorway. The splintered hole was now gone entirely; the door was thrown off its hinges by the demon, and Dante had come through without so much as making a single sound. Nina's hope that everything was going to be okay had already disintegrated with that door. She turned to face him while she kneeled on the wrecked floor, trembling half-fearful and half-excited. More, her demonic thoughts invaded. Fight more. Destroy more. She clamped her right hand along her armored left and gave a small whimper.

"You know what I have to do now, right?" Dante circuited the room, giving her wide berth. The sword on his back looked hungry to her, or maybe it was a trick of her eyes.

Nina cowered, the uncertain level of aggression and fear combating each other inside her mind. "I-- I don't know. Please... I'm not crazy. There was a demon in here coming after me and I... the thing-- it told me if I..."

"Stupid!" Dante interrupted, his eyes growing cold, all laughter gone. This was Dante on business; there was no nonsense in this room. The look on his face was redolent of several angry jocks she had seen in high-school when they was a game. They looked focused, their minds in a totally different world. "That thing will tell you anything to get you to let it control you. That's the funny thing about demon-possession. It's not really the demon's fault at all."

"What are you saying?" Nina defended angrily, turning around again to face him. She was going to piss her pants if he started shooting at her. "I don't know what... what you mean!"

Dante gave himself over to standing in the middle of the hallway in front of the kitchen. Then he reached over and turned on the kitchen light by flicking it with his gun. "It just has to ask for a little bit. Let me do this, let me do that, and you can do whatever. Then it asks for a little more." He turned on the living room light and she winced at the sight of her arm in full-blown illumination. "And a little more. And pretty soon-" Dante advanced until he was poking at her shoulder, "-that's when it's over. That's when everything gets blurred, and you don't know who you are anymore; the lines between justice and fun get a little unclear. You don't know where the demon begins...and you end."

Nina tried to lean away from him, fresh tears streaming down her dusty face. She wanted to go home now - and by that she meant home with her parents. She wanted to crawl under her chinese dragon comforter and get to sleep, wake up, and find out this was all a bad dream. It was all redolent of

Her stomach growled in the peculiar silence, speaking up for her when she failed to respond. Dante's tall, muscular form felt like it was only inches away now, and the spastic urge to push him back and beat him into a bloody senseless mash of bone and tissue overwhelmed her for a second, like an eyeblink - and that was all that it had to take. Her body felt weightless in the next second where she launched herself like a cat from her position on the floor into an aggressive assault against the demon hunter.

Except for that little thing. Dante was still taller and bigger and by rights had the upper hand. A bullet fired, whizzing by her ear and it stung like an insect bite. Many more bullets roared in her ears, the gunshot's reports practically deafening her immediately. But the demon had her in its agonizing thrall; she felt her left fist connect with a jawbone with a solid crack, and down they tumbled on the very rickety floor.

The floorboards groaned. Dante kicked her off like a dog, then spun his legs stylistically to regain his feet. The funny part about getting kicked was that it didn't hurt until after she had hit the ground; the not-so-funny part was that the room became crowded, the air burning with an expectant heat. The next moment, as she rubbed her side with a groan, the dimensional space between earth and Hell ripped apart violently; interdimensional doorways were shredded open and loosed a handful of demons into the living room of this poor fellow's apartment. The concussive reverberations of the dimensions coming into contact with one another compromised the stability of the floor. As a result, while the demons took notice and started to close in with vapid hunger on the pair, there was another loud explosion...and a crack that sent the terror of divine retribution right through Nina's spine.

Weightless except for when she hit the floor again, she had no clue how she managed to survive falling through a floor, hit the room below... still with her body intact! She scampered, her elbows and knees howling with a constant sharp agony, toward the door she saw, and burst out into the hallway with her eyes as huge as saucepans. She heard rampant gunfire chasing after her, but Nina could not stop to see if it was gunfire aimed at her or the other demons that had literally brought down the house with her.

She made for the stairs. She was sure she wouldn't let herself get caught in the elevator. Grabbing the railing, she practically leapt down four or five at a time. She couldn't discern any noise coming from above her, but she could heard the loud music growing even louder from downstairs. She burst through a pair of rusted metal double-doors; the room with darkness, flashing lights, and nude bodies on stage. The place reverberated, and a thick, disgusting smoke filled the air. She blinked, tears streaming down her face, a bit blind. That might have explained how she never took notice of the red glow beaming from several of the denizens eyes; all of their eyes collectively fixed on her as she pushed and shoved through the crowd, who took no notice of the single teenage girl.

Suddenly the crowd screamed; by instinct, she screamed as well, turning her left side toward the source. Somewhere in front of the stage, she saw men's bodies that were once human suddenly twist, contort, enlarge in the darkness, and turn monstrous. The darkness did not hide but almost accentuated their horrible features. They were different than the scythe-wielding one upstairs. She recoiled into another person, collided against a table, until she froze at the sound of another voice.

"It kind of chaps my hide when they try to run." Dante was behind her. He was rubbing his jaw, the enormous skull sword Rebellion over the other shoulder at the ready. "Okay, I'll try to make it fair. You hold still; I cut you down like a tree."

The demon seized her vocal cords at once. "You're a funny guy. You say that like I'm actually going to let you use me as a chopping block." With more dexterity than she thought her body capable of, Nina watched in the back of her mind with understandable soul-tearing horror as she darted in for an attack... and then it seemed she disappeared, passing right through Dante Sparda, only to screech to a halt behind him and take out his legs from a low kick. But that hardly seemed effective as he used the flat of his sword to block it, and deflect the kick sending her to the ground.

His eyes seemed to flinch as she cried out in pain. Evil flowed through her; the pain almost excited her. Spit speckled her lip, so she licked it and gave a leering smile. "Perhaps... perhaps I should let you in on a little secret. We're not alone, demon slayer. Take a look around!"

In fact, a sizable crowd of humans were being harried by demons. The red-coated half-devil bunched his hand into a fist, glaring at Nina... before he had no choice but to run to the nearest human to help him from getting splattered into human chunks by a hunch-backed freak.

Nina's head ached; she barely remembered running outside in the screaming, roaring chaos around her. Limbs barred her path; she snapped them aside like twigs with her left arm, tumbling out into a parking lot which was only slightly less chaotic. She kept running out onto the road, past other people who weren't aware of what was going on in their very own town. Under their own noses, demons walked the earth, invading their bodies, invading their souls. Destroying their lives.

The distraught, exhausted, sweaty teenage girl clambored blindly into the back of a pick-up truck looming parallel-parked on a street next to an apartment building. Even though it was not even late enough to be bed-time for most adults, the lights in the building were dark. She felt no fear of demons, because she was well-hidden and actually quite well-armed. The tarp covered her; it wasn't very warm at all. She kept flinching and trembling, afraid in the next second Dante would tear it off and kill her... one shot right to her face, and it would be over before she had any way to think. Strange how she was more afraid of someone who looked more like a human than any of the demons that tried to kill her. What worried her more was whether or not she had hurt anyone back there at that place. She was sure she had broken someone's finger while trying to twist an arm out of her way to get through, to escape.

She slept with the unsettling horror of what had happened haunting her. It was no longer funny, no longer an inconvenience. She really was possessed, and Dante really was going to kill her. Nina cried. There were no consoling words for her in the silent darkness. If there were any demons, they were probably laughing at her plight anyway. Her hands clenched into fists, and she rubbed her left hand.

"Are you there?" she whispered, her body balled into the corner of the truck bed. "Are you happy now?"

_If you're blaming your lack of humanitarian necessities on me, you're sorely mistaken._ The voice was not comforting... and it was loud and made her head hurt even more. I am doing my best to keep you alive. It's in my best interest to do so, seeing as we are ... bound.

"I don't understand anything... are you saying you can't just leave me alone, go tell Dante to screw himself and I'm not possessed anymore?" She swallowed. "Am I really...really stuck with you?"

_I am not going to apologize. Yes, you're... stuck with me. This is the truth. I am a demon, and you are my host._

"I want to go home... back to mom and dad... but I don't think they'll accept me if I just say, 'I got hungry and cold and lonely'. I don't know what to do. I don't want Dante to... to kill me."

_Likewise. I don't want to be destroyed._

"What's your deal anyway? Are you on the run from your buddies or something? You realize we're both in deep shit if--" The demon would not answer her; maybe it was tired. Either way, she fell into a fitful, feverish sleep.

She didn't want to think about all that right now. Her head pounded and life seemed to spin out of control around her even though she was laying still. She kept seeing, over and over again, light beaming on the blade of the sword, its skull adornment fleetingly grinning at her with a sickening joy, as if it would never grow tired of cutting down possessed teenage girls. Her ears continued to ring with the booming report of gunfire. She trembled harder, nearly overcome with sickness. She tried to convince herself that perhaps everything would be all right... but how could that be true? How could anything, ever be all right again?

* * *

The morning was loud. Jarred awake by the coughing grumble of the ignition being turned, she forced herself not to sit up for fear of being noticed by the driver. She had an awful daydream in the next several seconds that her white-haired pursuer was just around the corner. Her stiff neck complained as she moved it to a better angle. Her eyes burned and itched with sleep sand; after several minutes only did she dare reach up to rub her eyes, and then slowly elevate herself to peer over the edge of the truck. She clutched the tarp tightly over her head. When she realized she was leaving the city, her breath escaped her all at once, and she bit her knuckles to keep herself from crying too loudly.

She laid her head down again, relief and terror still fighting for a space on her emotional throne. But she only had to check for a few miles or so before she realized the truck seemed to be heading in the general direction of - home. Excitement made her fidget a little.

They continued for several miles. The truck finally stopped, and her knees ached. Her feet tingled. She waited for the man to get out of the cab, the door to slam. Then she threw back the tarp, gasping her first breath of fresh air, before she fell right out of the truck and onto the pavement. It was painful, and her knees failed to take any of her weight. But as soon as she could get back to her feet she walked quickly from the truck, onto the sidewalk. She reached into her pants pocket, feeling around for the crumpled dollars she had stuffed there. Her body ached, and in a moment of remembrance, she realized it probably had a great deal to do with falling through a floor the day before, being shot at, pushed, and physically aggressive toward other things.

The driver had parked his truck in a space in front of a little general store which probably had rows upon rows of refridgerated alcohol, milk, cheese, and a counter for making a cup of coffee. She never realized how much she craved ordinary things until that moment. She wanted to walk in and look at the glass display of lottery tickets, peer in at the ice cream, smell the strange, acrid cleaner aroma that pervaded above the smaller odors of packaged dry food. Nina approached the door and pushed it open, looking around. She saw her reflection just a second before the door shut. In that instant, she realized she had blood from a cut on her face dripping into her eye that had dried and was almost black. She quickly found her way to a small, cramped public bathroom and washed her face. She scrubbed her hands, looking at the shredded bits of her left sweatshirt sleeve and wondering how on earth she was going to manage not looking like a total hobo as she bought herself something to eat.

"Can't you fix it?" she muttered to her demon, but as usual, no reply. Was it asleep?

Leaving the store with an enormous chili hotdog, she sat down and munched it with more furtive noises of hunger than she thought herself capable of. She demolished her meal, then downed it with a ninety-nine cent bottle of milk. She burped; it reminded her of Dante, and in some form or another, she actually missed hanging out with him. She missed Lady, too - she was actually nice.

"But they'll kill me as soon as look at me," she thought aloud, walking down the street. The more she walked, the more she actually realized she was familiar with the houses, the street names. Her heart leapt in her chest; if she could get home tonight, and have a bath, and wake up normal, it would be the best day of her life.

In a few moments, she had reached a police station. Her discomfort with authority showed as she looked around. Her state of disarray automatically made her the target of many looks. She didn't even have to speak before an officer in uniform approached her.

"Miss, are you hurt?"

She was aware of the stinging cut on her face. "Yes... but, I'm looking for my parents." After an uncomfortable barrage of questions and exchanging of names and addresses, she was sitting, waiting for her parents to come get her... and that was worse than the horrible torture of undergoing possession...

What would her parents say? Would they be angry? Shit. Would they put her in juvenile hall? These thoughts ran rampantly through her, and the wooden chair on which she had plopped her behind wasn't very comforting at all. She wanted to go home, but she dreaded that it was not going to be as simple. Not like anything ever was. A police man stood beside her as well, which almost made it as if everything was going to go badly. Why did she need to be guarded? She wasn't going to run away. Maybe... this was not such a good idea.

After one cup of coffee and a bathroom trip, followed by another hour, she saw her dad's old maroon Buick idle its way into a parking space. Her eyes filled with tears before they even reached the door. Her dad was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a fair complexion, contrasted by her mother who was willowly, dark-skinned, with thick black hair bound up in a messy pony tail. Her mother wore a longsleeve, green blouse with petite wood buttons with animals carved onto them, and a long ankle-length skirt that billowed with each step. She looked ethereal, her mother, as if she had come from a story book about natives.

Nina looked more or less like her father, but she had the lighter hair, and her mother's disconcerting, dark, soul-stealing eyes. Her mother once told her a story about when she was born - that she had emerged into the world quietly, and her eyes were not baby blue but just as dark as tree bark.

The teenager stood up, running to her parents like a child. They never stopped to chide her or yell at her - but that would come later. She threw her arms around them, sobbing without any inhibition of how ridiculous she looked. The familiar smells of mother and father drove away her adolescent embarassments and old fears.

"Mom," she wept, "Mama!"

It was heart-wrenching. But the police report was not finished, and she had to sit and answer further questions. It was decided that the best place for Nina was to just go home.

The door shut once she had secured herself in the front seat. Her mom sat behind her while her father drove. The seat seemed too huge for her, as usual, but it was still an awesome experience to be back in a familiar surrounding. For awhile, as they drove back to their house on a street lined with autumnal trees, brilliantly cloaked in their colors.

Her house was a two-story house with her window dead and center. She could see her neighborhood for a good few blocks. Suburbia never looked so good... and as she climbed up the front steps of her porch, she thought to herself, "It's really over. It really is."

Was it really true that just outside of that living Hell, she lived on the boundary between madness and sanity? How had she existed this whole time, thinking that demons didn't exist?


	6. Life's Sweets

Author's Note: I'm not sure if... Well, anyway. If I left out the part where Dante decided to follow her, the chapter would have been very, very short... but since this entire fic is cracktastic anyway, I don't think it follows the same rules as ..er..good.. fanfiction.

**Chapter 6 - Life's Sweets**

There was nothing as satisfying as a breakfast quietly enjoyed. Regardless of the circumstances, her parents had no questions of her to ask. It seemed normal, eerily quiet. She rather wished she could gush on and on about the snow-haired hunk who had done his very best to kill her. Nina really wished that she could talk about her ordeal in huge detail, but all she could impart to her loving family was that she was sorry she had run away and she would not do it ever again. She washed the dishes after breakfast, picked up her room all morning because she craved something like a new clean slate - she had all the time in the world to dirty her room again. After being able to see the carpet that time forgot, for the first time in months, she felt tons, tons better. Her energetic cleaning made her mother smile, and her father seemed bemused by it.

Her carpet was a deep blue color, like the ocean. There were flecks of pale blue peppered throughout, giving it a somewhat three-dimensional appearance. She felt as if she could walk on water. All of her furniture was handed down from her mother. It was well-used but still elegant. Once she uncovered it from toppled CD piles and bits of items she realized she no longer needed and thrown out, she realized her room's atmosphere was rather warm. She sat on her freshly made bed, her eyes watering for no reason... maybe she lifted her left arm just the right way, but the shadow of her head fell on it and she noticed it was pale again. Her fingertips were blue, her skin dry. She put some lotion in it and laid down, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars, which merely looked like green obstructions from her white popcorn ceiling.

It was almost noon, and although lunch was not that far away, she wasn't hungry yet. She could hear her parents going about their business. She understood why they weren't working today - they didn't want to leave and find her gone again. Blown away off the tree like a leaf. Grateful that she had made it, the teenager gave a little sigh and rolled over, hugging her stuffed bulldog to her chest, its familiar scent smothering the scent of demon that filled her nostrils.

"Do you think Dante will track me down here?" she whispered, mostly to herself, but suddenly she recieved a soft answer from her own monster.

_Eventually he will. You left your belongings and things all at his place, with the exception of your wallet. But your camera is still there._

"How the hell do you know 'bout my camera?"

_I see it in your mind._ The voice maintained a smug note. _Do you think all I do all day is sit and do nothing?_

Nina panicked. "Stop poking around my head...! That's... That's rude!" Her voice rose to normal speaking level, and she flinched when she heard her parents footsteps draw nearer to her room upstairs. Continuing in a whisper, she added, "So... how long? I don't want him to find my parents and... and I don't want them to know. I think... he'd try to avoid hurting humans. Except me."

_My only suggestion is that you try to resume life as normally as possible. Perhaps he will see you're not troubled by me, and he may allow you to exist. My only beef is with other demons, but if he makes any more attempts to harm you... I will have to take matters into my own - hand._

"What an idiot..." She thought, knowing full well he knew it. But since she was the host, she felt she had every right to say whatever the hell she wanted - with a little prudence considering her survival. She had not forgotten the cold-hearted grip around her throat. She rubbed her neck and winced at the dull ache when she touched the points where pressure had been exerted.

* * *

The next day was as predictable as the last. It was a blessing to her. She woke up, helped make breakfast, went up to her room to play a video game or two, then went downstairs to talk to her parents - not because she felt obligated to give an explanation at any given time but because her parents seemed to expect one. How did one actually explain from the beginning? She tried on the third day, when her father went back to work, to explain to her mother. It was a shot more comforting to talk to her mom one-on-one, but there were no words to spit up to give any decent reason why she ran away. She hesitated, her hands twisting her napkin into knots. Her mother's eternal patience seemed absolutely godly.

"I don't understand. You mean to tell me you ran away for no apparent reason? That's not exactly what I was hopin' for, just so you know."

"I know. It's not that there's no reason, but it's not a good one. I was... I was bored and angry." There. Two nice chunks of words. "But I realized that I wanted to come home. I took everything... I had for granted. Now I want to stay and finish school. Are... Are you still going to get angry at me?"

"No... No, darling." Her mother liked to use words other parents didn't - like darling, and sweetheart, and beloved. It was weird but it made her feel even more special now to be hearing them once again. Usually, before her escape, she always felt embarassed. "Listen... this time around, if you ever get bored, come talk to me. Maybe I can make you feel not-so-bored. I'd love to see you join a sport, but I know you don't like them. Maybe an art class?"

"I don't know." She failed to grasp how that would help her at all. She just wanted to get back to where she had been before, and complain about the same old things, but this time, it would just be a ritual sort of. Her angst and attitude would be old vestiges she clung to for familiarity's sake, not out of sincerity. "Thank you, mom. I'm sorry I can't come up with anything better... I don't want to leave again. I really want to go back to school as soon as I can."

"School's been started for about two months. I don't know if you can just jump back in."

"I guess I could start tenth grade over." That made her angsty just a bit. But she wouldn't have to deal with stupid people in her class. Besides, she had a friend in ninth grade before she ran away. Maybe she would be in a class or two with her. "Right?"

Her mother smiled, somehow relieved and uneased by her willingness to suggest starting a grade over. "It could start a new slate. You might even do better this year, knowing what to expect and all."

The kitchen clock tocked and ticked, and they smiled at each other. The warmth flooded throughout her, positive that this was one of the best moments of the week.

* * *

The worst was the last day before school. She wanted a new sweatshirt to replace the one she had ripped up during - that time, she thought, not acknowledging that time where she had been stupid and possessed. She was at a superstore, a shopping center to end all shopping centers. She asked her father if she could get one, and she would pay him back as soon as she got a job. He looked at her and frowned, as if she had said something completely unnecessary.

"You going to pay us back for everything else, too?"

What the hell did that mean? And where the hell did he get off saying that, after all that happened? Just 'cause daddy was the typical breadwinner of the old days didn't mean he could talk to her like that. She was sorry - had said so every day through words, actions, anything to keep the peace with her family. She was so angry and shocked she had no idea how to respond. Instead she just looked away with a hard and final, "Nevermind." It didn't occur to her that she shouldn't be asking for things so soon. She certainly was not the type to beg gifts from the people who cared for her, using their urge to supplicate their poor estranged daughter.

Instead, she went through the school supplies by herself to look for pencils. She forgot to tell her dad she needed some school stuff, and had no idea where he went until he came barreling into the aisle with his face red. All kinds of fury and fear filled his eyes as he seized her by the back of her jacket and lifted her a bit off the floor, giving her a shake, like she were some of puppy.

"Nina, don't go running off like that!" He shook her. "Do you know how worried I was?!" Another shake, and then she was pushed in front of the cart like a child.

"I need college-ruled notebook paper." She gave her father a long, pained look, as if she was sorry for forgetting but even sorrier for him overreacting. Her left arm itched, and she tugged her sleeve down to cover her hand. The attack had started an excited response in her demon.

Her father's shoulders sagged as if burdened by some unnecessary guilt. He did not want to say that his worry was misplaced. Instead he said, "You need a graphing calculator too, right? You lost your old one?"

Nina gulped and nodded, hunching into a protective shape as she sulked all the way from school supplies to fresh produce.

* * *

The day she started school was a Monday, so she had an entire week to balance out her new - or perhaps old - life. In homeroom, she was greeted with a lot of blank looks, and a handful of cheers as if she had come back from a distant land with a trophy to show for it. She recognized almost everyone, but names did not come to her. She was tempted all day to go up to random strangers going, "Oh my God, it's you! I missed you so much!" But she resisted. It would have only won her more weird looks. The classes she attended went by in a frantic blur of faces, lessons she had no idea were about, and even in one room a test. She remembered most (she hoped) of what she could recall about the subject and asked to see the score afterward.

The randomness didn't stop there.

During gym, it was girls versus boys in a game of dodge ball. She hated that game, but she did her best to ignore the tingling in her left arm when she was struck. As the game went on, time seemed less important, and she became utterly determined to huck a ball back at the next prick with an ego to uphold. She darted; she leaped, she rolled. She was playing harder than all those dumb girls combined. Then she saw an opportunity and seized the ball, the hair on the back of her neck raising when she percieved another spherical projectile go whizzing past the back of her head.

Her demon's voice purred with pleasure as she hurled the ball back at her intercepter faster than he could see it, so he couldn't possibly catch it. The ball caught him square in the chest - the ball itself for a moment had taken on a disturbing purple aura and smacked into the tall autumn-haired boy, falling backward into another kid who was about to throw a ball to one of her team mates.

She got out four more boys in a row with brow-raising accuracy, her body making an arch as she reared her arm back to strike to knock her foes solidly with the resounding 'thunk' of rubber-covered nerf balls dead-on. She landed with a triumphant sneer, feeling victorious - and ridiculous amounts of enorphins were shooting up and down her system, even though it was just a simple game. She had never felt so good before in her life. Reversely, she felt even weirder. Her demon thoroughly enjoyed the physical activity, the challenge of trying to hit something without killing it. Amazed that no one was injured and even more shocked that no one noticed the purplish aura, she left the girl's locker room with a sense of unease, as if she was fooling only herself. She hid her hand in her pocket and felt her fingertips tingle.

After that, she dove in line to get to the lunch first - even though it was the same abysmal fare as before. She used pocket change to pile on extra pizza, and sat alone at her table, looking around for her nine-now-tenth grade friend. In a few minutes, she gave it up as hopeless. Her only redeeming thought was that maybe she might share a class in the remaining half of the day. She clung to that hope, like a drowning person; as she struck that boy square in the chest, she realized she was still not quite - ordinary. She was now extraordinary, even though the world still revolved at its normal pace. Her knee bounced as she waited, ever patiently, for an excuse to dash out into the hallway and renew her own journey in humanity's frantic urge to educate its next generation.

* * *

In the seedy village where Devil May Cry had its niche, a white-haired male of youthful age and a beautiful, dangerous looking woman walked side-by-side, sharing what was left of a full meal ordered at a fast-food place. The male belched and tossed an empty crushed plastic soda cup into a garbage bin as he passed it on the corner.

"So... she got away, but at least the people at that club didn't get too badly hurt."

"Except the ones that got possessed," Dante corrected with a chilling stare at the sidewalk. He seemed unusually burdened by the knowledge that she was still out there. Was it people, pride, or penitance that made him scowl like that? She could never really know, but she gave it a shot.

The woman, Lady, looked sidelong at him, sipping at her low-fat milkshake. She gave a long sigh. "She left a bunch of stuff here. Did you get a chance to look through it? You know she probably went to the last place you'd think - home, right? It's been three days now. You aren't taking on any jobs, and you'd better leave town while it's quiet. If anything comes up... I can take care of it." She was trying to sound reassuring, but to her ears, she ended up sounding rather bossy. She made an effort to soften her tone, "Are you worried about her?"

"No," he answered too quickly. "I'm worried about the people she's getting involved!" He kicked a can into the gutter, growling, "And if I have to chase her half-way across the damn country to stop her from hurting anyone-- I don't want to have to--"

"Hurt her?" Lady hoped to high heaven she wasn't taking a chance.

Dante shoved the rest of the food into her arms and stormed on ahead, reaching into his pocket for the photograph of the girl. Yesterday she had taken the camera's film to a general store to get it developed. They just got done getting it back and hadn't really gone through the pictures. Some of the film had gone bad due to being out in the weather. But the photographs were cheeky, charming, teen-with-a-camera-fetish sort of neatness to them. There were a couple of people, friends... and surprisingly, butterflies, flowers... and a building that looked suspiciously of a school. There was a picture of Nina herself that came out - and Dante was planning on using that to help track the girl down.

"Dante..." She lifted her eyes, watching him stalk off. She knew he did not in any way enjoy this seriousness all the time. He liked his fun and his danger. She wondered what he would try to do to pry her away from the old life Nina missed. "Don't be angry at her." He hadn't heard her.

They caught up to each other later in front of D.M.C.. He was flipping through the pictures again, and picked out a few. One of the brick school building, another of Nina, and another of a skyline. It was up to Dante to really do detective work, but it might take a little more finesse to get him close to Nina in order to kidnap - well, suggest politely to find a better lifestyle in case her demon caught up with her...

"Why this one?" She looked over his shoulder, surprising him a little. He jabbed a finger at a vague shape on the skyline.

"I recognize that church, I think."

"You think? They all look alike to me."

"I know, but this one's kinda funny shaped. Trust me. I know I recognize this other stuff, too. And I have a feeling it's not just a place she visited."

"Either way, it has to be close. What about the other pictures?"

"I'm gonna give 'em to her." He tucked them back away into the envelope with the negatives and stuffed them in an inside pocket in the large red leather jacket he favored. He had a habit of staying vague. He handed her the doubles of the ones he had and told her, as if she was some servant, "Go dig up this school in Chesterville."

"What are you gonna do?" She stared at the skyline photo. It was good for an amateur, and the clouds had a marvelously pink tinge...

"I'm gonna enroll. Duh." He went inside, knocked his sword into its place in the weapon cupboard. "I'm gonna rent a hotel room and go to school and keep an eye on her. If memory serves right, I think she has a month left before she becomes fully possessed."

"How do you figure?" Lady followed him, adjusting her shirt down over her belly.

"I read up on it. What?" He challenged her look of disbelief. "You think there's books in my room 'cause I like looking at them?" He grumbled at her continued chagrin, then moved a stack of empty pizza boxes off his desk onto the floor and sat down. He tapped his temple with his finger. "She's a strong-willed chick, and the demon wants her to accept his control rather than have to figh fort it all the time. I figure she has a month before she becomes completely under his control, her entire body his to command. If I'm wrong, then it's better if I'm there to watch her and make sure none of that happens."

"And you're gonna do that... how? Last I heard, you killed demons - not exorcised them, Dante," she reminded him, feeling a little proud that he's thought most of this through. She plunked her bottom on the edge of his desk, poking him in the shoulder with a chastising finger. "And who's going to take care of-- oh, I suppose you think I'm going to babysit your place for you then."

"Pretty please with sweet-'n-low on top?"

"You know me too well. Fine. But only 'cause I like the girl and I don't want to see her get hurt either, you know! So... promise you'll take it easy on her, but not if she's possessed. Okay?" She held out her hand. "You realize you're doin' this for free, right? You're throwing away a month's pay. I'm not going to do all your jobs that come in for you. Maybe a couple to keep it even, right?"

"I know... just goes to show what a good-natured, extremely charitable guy I can be." He shook her hand, his sly sneer brightening his face for the first time all day. "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon to make sure I'm right about the school."

* * *

She finally met her friend on the fourth day. Alia was a slender, light-haired girl, with pale hair. She almost appeared sickly, with freckles spread all across her cheekbones and the tip of her nose. Her eyes were a disarmingly bright, peridot blue. It was off-set by the enormous glasses she wore on her face. She was in her own way beautiful, but to most adolescent boys, she was as nerdy as nerdy could be.

As it turned out, Alia had gone on vacation with her parents to Switzerland. She had brought to school a bag of Swiss chocolates on Thursday, along with several postcards that she shared with her world history teacher and Nina. The pair got a chance to talk during study hall through a covert exchange of notes on a sheet of paper. This particular study hall teacher did not care if they passed notes, because he liked to maintain quiet than make sure everyone was doing work and not just falling asleep or playing Nintendo or, like these two, passing notes.

Nina wrote, "I was so worried that you'd left school, but someone told me you'd gone on vacation."

Alia replied, "I should be more worried. Heard you got taken away by social services by being abused."

"I ran away. But I'm back now and I want to stay here. I needed a bit of an eye-opening experience."

Alia didn't reply for a long time. She stared at her homework, not doing it, but thinking long and hard. Finally she replied, "You definately seem different. ttyl." And that was the end of their on-the-fly conversation.

After school, Nina collapsed against the schoolyard wall on the sidewalk side, clutching her left arm, which burned and itched so badly inside her jacket she feared she was going to have to disappear again until it went away. But as soon as it started, it was over; a second later, Alia was walking up to her with her books clutched to her chest. She avoided looking at Nina for a long time. Finally she spoke up, "Are you walking home?"

"Sure. Wanna walk with me?" Nina felt obligated to explain to the younger girl everything that had happened. But as soon as she attempted to speak, nothing at all came to mind as to how to begin. She gave a little sigh and walked beside the willowy girl. She didn't mind the silence, but it was bugging the crap out of her the final ominous statement of their study hall conversation: You definitely seem different, she had written.

"I'm sorry I ran away. I know it upset a lot of people." Nina adjusted her bookbag. "I'm sorry if I upset you."

"It's not that." Alia looked off to the side, her white tennis trainers kicking a small rock into the bushes. "I was upset, but then I realized... some people aren't meant for this sort of life. It bores them and they have to look somewhere else to find what makes them happy." She shrugged. "I just overheard today there was a new student arriving on Monday."

"That's nice. Maybe we can indoctrinate him or her before the jocks and preppies do. Then we can call ourselves a threesome, huh?" Nina's excitement deflated as soon as she noticed that Alia was not looking at her, and she had not in fact met her gaze for a long time.

Suddenly Alia said, "I don't think so. See you tomorrow." She turned to cross the street.

A screeching filled her ears and her body lurched forward toward the horror unfolding, as if gravity had changed directions. The sunlight beamed directly off the chrome into her eyes, blinding and absolute. But rather than shut her eyes, she stared as the small red corvette swerved back into its own lane and Alia, unharmed, continued her direct and unerring path to the other side of the street and through the park to get to her house. Nina stared at her for a lifetime, feeling a dread in her body that trickled from her eyes to her knees and finally in her heart.

"Bitch," she muttered, wondering just what the hell made Alia hate her so much. Her left arm continued tingling until she reached the front door.

She'd lost everything, hadn't she? The trust of her parents... and even her friends. What more could go wrong?


	7. Identity

**Author's Notes:** Hey, um, an update? Thanks for all the reviews - the encouragement is much needed. I know this isn't the type of place to put this stuff.. but for a long time, my mother's been very sick. I'm in my second year of college and she passed away. So I've been...dealing with a lot. And fiction is my way to vent. Dante has been very helpful - so don't worry, he won't hurt Nina... if he doesn't have a reason to

_Chapter 7 - **Identity**_

Homework dominated her weekend. She skillfully navigated the internet websites only to find a different kind of boredom. Alia talked to her on messenger, but she failed to explain why she had left in such a hurry (and in such a bitchy manner). In a few hours on Saturday, she was bored once again, and rolled herself out of bed to go enjoy breakfast. As the week had drawn out, she slowly and steadily stopped her efforts to help clean the table. She had too much homework to do and if she kept pleasing her parents every minute of every day, she'd up till two in the morning doing homework she had neglected.

Downstairs, her mother, who did not work on weekends, was sitting in front of the TV with a bowl of cereal, her nightgown still wrinkly from sleeping and her hair done up in a sort of messy bun. She flopped down on the floor next to the sofa... then stretched out completely, yawning and stretching. "Morning, mama."

"Morning, sleepy-head."

"Meh!"

"Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale."

That night, she'd had a similar nightmare about falling to Hell into the demons and being torn apart, body and soul. She had no recollection of the dream upon waking, only a sense of soreness beyond description. She had taken a long hot shower, brushed her teeth, and scrubbed the dry skin from her left hand with a vigorous amount of pumice stone.

She replied, in between rubbing her haggard eyes, "I'm okay. Just weirdness last night."

"Couldn't sleep at all?" Her mother gave a warm, soul-soothing smile; Nina gave a smile back in return, as sincere a smile as she'd ever given anyone in her life. "Well, try to catch up for sleep tonight if you can. I'd get some herbal stuff today if I make it to the store. I know it's stressful, having to catch up after all you missed."

It was true. Whether Nina admitted it or not, she was actually making an active effort to give herself over to homework every night, complete as much as she could, and go to bed. However, stress and boredom drove her to abandon those endeavors for more exciting things - like video games and the internet. "If it'll help. I don't want to be dependent on that stuff, you know that."

"You can't develop dependency on herbal remedies, honey."

"Right, right. Oh yeah!" She surprised herself by jumping to remembrance. "There's a new kid coming to school Monday. New student, I mean." For the first time in what felt like forever, she thought of Dante and felt a chill creep down her back; terror made her look even paler. She sat down. "I hope he's nice."

"It might be a girl." Her mother grinned conspiratorily. "Or were you hoping for a cute boy?"

"Mom!" She kept thinking of Dante's opposition to wearing shirts, his rippling stomach and gave a shudder. "Mom, you're awful..."

As she prepared for school that morning, her father smiled at her and gave her a pat on the head, careful to avoid messing up her hair. "Be good at school, okay? See you when I get home." He gave her a smooch in the doorway before he jaunted down the sidewalk to his old car; it was barely light out and it was cold, snowing, her hat in her hand as she thought about whether to put it on. Then she walked her way to the school, hunched into her usual "I'm so cold I can't unfurl my limbs" shape. She more or less shivered herself all the way to school, because it didn't feel like she was walking.

At soon as she came within touching distance of the wall, it hit her with all the ungodly force of a train wreck. She fell against the wall, her left arm convulsing without mercy, her skin burning and bubbling. Something wet made her shirt stick to her wrist; she was sure it wasn't sweat. But hazily she pieced together the words booming around her psyche: _he is close and he is coming soon, run away._

"I can't," she breathed through her clenched teeth. She staggered upright, furious that her Monday had to start this way. She didn't want to even think that her demon was doing this because he could sense the half-devil Dante a mile away. She gulped and walked into the school side door next to the parking lot, her usual point of entry. First period was her math class. She huddled in the back of the room without anything to contribute to that day's lesson because she was horrible at math, and not particularly feeling well.

"Did you hurt your arm?" asked a girl in her math class as they left. She had noticed Nina gripping the sleeve of her arm as if her life depended on it - it may very well have. The pain had continued unhindered all class.

"Sort of. But I'll be okay. Don't worry." She smiled and went to her second period class, feeling as if she were walking through a thick red haze. People seemed to treat her the same, so maybe she looked okay. The teenage girl merely blanked out through the next classes; she half-heartedly pursued a note conversation with Alia. And she heard something interesting in her third period class that almost went out of her radar of awareness. A young girl wearing her hair in a bandana and looking a bit peaky, having been suffering from the flu for a few weeks now, had gone missing from her parents house over the weekend. She had been acting weird all last week, but she was a Freshman and Nina had not heard of her before.

"She was always kind of a freak," some Freshman girls said as they walked by Nina. "Her name was Elfie or something weird like that. Anyway, she was always into that occult stuff. But she used to be best friends with that prep girl Renee."

Nina strained to listen, pausing to paw through her bag for something to look as if she were busy. The girls conversation dissipated down the hallway, but that was all she really heard. She gulped and continued on, her left arm pulsing as if something ached to burst loose. Memories of the first transformation of her arm filled her with an urge to be sick to her stomach. That gleaming, fresh-out-of-the-cocoon look of her armor made her think of segmented insects creeping around on a floor. She would hate to begin to liken herself to a demon bug.

_You should be more concerned with what you're going to do. I sense a demon in this building, another like me._

She thought back, with effort, _It's not Dante? Then we've got nothing to worry about, right?_

_This demon wants to harm us. I couldn't say who or what it is. It may well be Dante - I don't know him that well. I know of him, like so many of us do. Either way, you'll kill us if you try to run away from again. Cowards in Hell don't survive as long as those who fight--_

Hunching her shoulders against the insults, she vehemently pushed his voice into silence. She continued the rest of her classes until her lunch period, where food seemed to bring her back out of the haze. She inhaled three pizzas instead of her usual modest two. The rectangular shaped food, topped with super-greasy cheese and pepperoni chunks, gave her a pep she really needed. Alia surprised her by switching her lunch period to this one instead, since her lunch was surrounded by study halls. Her wispy friend walked downstairs into the recess that was actually part of the school basement and saw Nina, actually smiling. She walked toward her, seated herself with the usual slow, the-world-could-end-but-I'll-still-not-panic way. She seemed to have something to say for a long time, before she said:

"I saw the new guy. He was talking to the school advisor." She tipped her head and chewed the end of a pencil that had been stuck in her notebook. "I believe he was accompanied by a man of the badge."

"A police officer?" She looked down, chewing on her hair, which was growing out again. "Someone was saying a freshie girl went missing this weekend. Maybe he has information about it."

"I don't know. I heard something like that this morning in another class. Similarly, the freshman girl that knew her, Renee? She was in my first period class. She appears to be in fits about it. Very upset. She had to be excused from class to go to the nurses office before the bell rang." The pencil eraser moved to the other side of her mouth. Then she drowsily turned her head to look at the doors leading to the cafeteria. "Oh my. Here he comes now."

When Nina's head turned to look, the demon which possessed her seized up in response, twisting and writhing under her skin so hard that she had to bite her tongue to keep from crying out.

A youngish guy who looked like a senior walked down the stairs, his heavy leather jacket sitting heavily on his shoulders. His white bangs were tucked carefully into the snug, zipper hoodie he wore underneath the jacket. His pants hung low on his hips and everyone in the room's gaze was magnetized to the new guy. He did not carry a backpack. In fact, he seemed like he was walking off the set of a grungy industrial film rather than walking in to have a bite to eat in between high school courses.

She felt herself sink into her seat, slowly and then she physically squatted down on the floor trying to hide behind her bookbag, her friend Alia, anything. Inquisitive stares did not prevent her from stopping. Not even the way Alia suddenly shrank in on herself as if she was embarassed. She was blushing horribly now, her freckles standing out even more, the pencil bobbing furious as she chewed the eraser into oblivion.

As if that weren't enough, he didn't go to the line for food. Instead he made his way toward their table as if it were the only one in the entire room. She swallowed her tongue in her effort to stay invisible, struggled to breathe.

Alia took one glance at the approaching figure and gathered her things, rushing away with her head down through another set of doors that went out into the east hallway. She looked as though she was going to be ill; perhaps it was her aversion to any male attention on her immediate person. Dante Sparda ignored the flight.

"What--" Her tongue refused to work. "How?"

"Get up, idiot." He yanked a chair out from the table and sat down, legs cockily parted and his eyes fixed firmly on her. "Don't make a scene or I'll have to take you outside for some... air, maybe?" Cue the frank, sincere little smile that had a hint of the usual cockiness she hated to love.

Stunned by his continued frankness, the teenager crept back into her seat, her fingers numb from gripping the edge of the table with enough force to leave cracks. She kept her eyes on him, horror completely rendering her mute. Half-aware that everyone was watching them and that boys were grinning, her eyes were only focused on Dante's face, fixed on her. _I'm going to be crushed under that look_, she thought franticly. _Crushed and left to become dust by the weight of enroaching womanhood!_ She slid her hand under the table and kept it hidden, because her demon was having a problem keeping still with Dante so close and all. He smelled strange to her; she must have a keener nose now, able to scent the strange hot musk that was that of a demon, lingering over Dante like a thin mist.

At that moment, Dante leaned forward, lifting his butt from the chair, his eyes glaring into hers - straight into her soul, as if searching her mind for the demon. "You can relax. I'm not here to give you any problems. I'm just here to keep an eye on the girl."

Her lips and tongue melted, forming words not her own. Her hands felt heavier as time passed.

"You're crossing the line coming here. I was hoping I wouldn't have to endanger anyone else."

"Funny how that almost sounds like a _threat_. Better keep a watchful eye on that mouth of yours, there." He made a show of checking his wallet for money. "Don't go anywhere, Nina. And don't call me by my name. My name's Adam while I'm here."

Her benumbed fingers twitched, while her bleary oculars watched him get up and enter the line for food; his hips moved hypnotically from one end of the room to the other, and she weakly laid her head on the table, grateful for the ebbing discomfort in her arm. Distracted, she stared at his ass until he vanished behind the stand of Doritoes and white cheddar popcorn snack food. She felt no big sense of relief that he hadn't shot her in the face on the spot. Would he do that in front of a bunch of high school students if he had to?

Time. She needed time to think of a way to get out of this! It was too soon, too fast!

Dante "Adam" Sparda gave her a wink as he returned and sat down, mouth watering over the tray he had piled five chunks of school pizza on. He pulled a green glowing soda from his sweatshirt pockets, the airtight carbonated drink hissing as it cracked the seal on the bottle. He made it a point to avoid staring at her, but Nina likewise continued to stare at him... and stare for a long time, anxious of what he would do should she take her eyes away for a second. That, and he was becoming bizarrely good-looking as more time passed.

"Can I talk to you after school?" she managed at last, gathering her book bag and checking that the zippers were properly zipped, pencils were in place. _Stop staring, idiot._

"Sure. It's not a date, is it?"

"You've got a funny idea of what a date is. Is that why you're still single?" she snapped back, automatically on the defensive - against his romantic ammunition. "Are you... are you really not going to try anything?"

"I make sure my dates are all drinking age first, darlin'."

"That's not what I meant!' Nina hissed, her face turning five degrees warmer on the surface.

"I've made it a point to get here undercover, you think I'm gonna blow it now? Tch." He adopted a somewhat chagrined expression. "She don't know me very well, do she?"

As it turned out, Dante wasn't planning on hurting her at all. In fact, she went through the rest of the day strangely elated. Contrasting to the pain and anxiety of that morning, she felt like she was walking on air... and hoped that it wasn't a sign that she was feeling stupid emotions that had no place in her heart right then. The feeling persisted throughout her last classes, disabling her still from doing anything akin to concentrating on what her teachers were saying. By the end of the day, she was buzzing in her ears, and her arm only very dully ached.

"Stupid," she thought as she went outside. "I keep getting this weird feeling. I better not be starting one of those puberty growth-spurt-- Dante."

He made the wall look smaller for some reason, leaning with his back against it, his leg up and his foot leaning on the bricks and both hands jammed into his pockets. Maybe if she had no idea how high he could jump, or how strong he really was, it would make her less intimidated. Alia stood across the street - her eyes were fixated on Dante, but as soon as Alia saw the half-demon look her away for an instant she jerked and walked quickly away, her books clutched desperately to her chest like armor plating.

"Kind of a weird one, isn't she?" Dante off-handedly commented, watching her flee.

"She's my friend. I think you've got her scared. Or nervous. I seriously hope she's not crushing on you at all." She peered at Dante without feeling an ounce of attraction. _So far so good. _"Now, I want your guarantee you're not going to come after me while I'm at school or at home or anywhere else, understand? This is important! In fact, I'd like you to leave. I'm absolutely fine!"

Dante, completely ignoring her, said, "But you felt it this morning, didn't you?"

"Huh?" Nina remembered this morning; the bad feeling, the weird disconnection. Was it because of Dante? "What the hell do you mean?"

"I only got here just before lunch. A little birdy told me you didn't look well this morning. Which means someone else is here, making your little demon friend antsy." He smirked, sliding his hands down the front of his jacket, patting his sides. "I didn't come without packin'. Luckily your school doesn't have metal detectors." How is that _lucky_? Nina interrupted silently. "I don't think I've got anything to worry about from the kids. But I can't ignore that there's a demon hanging around this school. And I think it's a person."

"A demon? Not me?" She glowered at him. "Does that mean you're not here for me at all?" Somehow, the idea upset her. She rather liked the idea - however unromantic - of Dante coming to her school just to keep an eye on her and make sure he did not have probable cause to blow her brains out. Wondering whether or not he was here just for an actual hunt made her wonder if he even cared about her at all at this point, or whether he trusted her to be alone.

"No, I'm definitely here for you, sweetheart." He reached over with a gloved, large hand and tousled her hat until it was crooked and her hair felt extremely bad. "But we've got to keep an eye out for the other guest. Have you heard anything? Y'know, weird chick-gossip?"

"A girl went missing this weekend." She related what she had heard throughout the day. She even told him the girl's name, but didn't know who Elfie's best friend was since she didn't associate with the lower classmen anyway. Fuzzy recollection was a real bitch sometimes. She leaned against the wall, wracking her brains, but nothing else helpful came up.

"Do you want I should ask my friend Alia to do a little digging? She's the detective, not me."

"How can she help?"

"She's... talented, let me say that." She hesitated. Not too much information, she thought. He might actually target her for whatever reason he deems enough. My friend's not a demon, Nina persisted mentally. No way. She may be weird, but she's definitely not a demon. "She listens to people. She can understand people in ways... that are almost kind of freaky."

"I get it, I get it." Dante wanted nothing more than to hurry off to do whatever it was he planned on doing. Maybe he would go back and kill demons if he could afford the gas to get back to his town. It didn't occur to Nina at all that he was going anywhere else. Then he started off walking up the street to a car parked. It was a capable little cheapo car. He called over his shoulder, "Go ahead and ask her but don't get her too involved. The last thing I'd like is for your little skittish friend to go missing, too."

* * *

Unlocking the door to her empty two-story house, Alia was thinking, "It's getting dangerous. They'll find me out soon." Why she would have thought that was anyone's guess, unless she had something specific to hide. It was difficult to understand what she meant about being found out, seeing as this was not the house she lived in as Alia the Student. Many names had been attributed to her; often she became mixed up with so many identities she had gathered over the years to construct a confusing web of trails - none of which led to the current identity at the time. Burnt bridges, she called them. People she would never be again.

The rake-thin girl placed her stack of school books on the end table beside the door where she would not touch them again for the rest of the night. She walked purposefully into her bathroom and looked at the stick-thin figure gawking back at her without blinking, her unsettling bright eyes drawing her attention again and again. Thin, graceful fingers slipped beneath the hem of her blouse and she lifted it above her naval and her smallish breasts; she folded it carefully so as to avoid gazing at her naked skin for too long. Her womanly shape seemed somehow lacking, though not unattractive. She hated how her knees looked so she wore pants or long skirts to cover them. She was almost bony all the time; she could count her ribs if she lifted her arms just a little, stretching the skin taut over her osseus tissue.

But it wasn't her front she was interested in. Turning so she was looking at her side, what looked like protruding shoulderblades, on closer inspection, actually were something else. She rubbed her shoulders but her fingers could not reach the odd protrusions. The oddities seemed to appear bruised and painfully tender and as she stood there with her arms around her chest, they appeared to shift and to move of their own accord no more than a centimeter at a time.

She observed the changes unfolding, however unspeakable they were to anyone else, and stated softly, "I'm running out of time. It has to be soon now. Or not at all." She pulled a towel from the dryer she had started and put it around her shoulders, stifling a soft cry from the rush of heat spreading across her sore protrusions. "I don't want to, but it must be done... and I hope I have the courage and strength. The demon won't wait any longer."


	8. The Soul Thief

**A/N**: HELP. I'm being beaten down by an angry devil hunter!! no, please, I didn't mean to make you look slutty, I SWEAR--

Teenage Girls With Cameras - **The Soul Thief**

Nina was required to go to school early to talk to her English teacher the next day, which was a Tuesday. The gray skies had found it appropriate to start spitting snow. She was writing a little research paper about one of today's problems. Her teacher had handed out a list to get them started - and even though Nina knew it was cheap, she knew a paper about teenage girls and body image would be easy. She had a lot of ground to cover and her teacher had suggested she narrow her topic to something else.

Nina stared at a sheet of paper she had written on all study hall as she walked down the hall. She had been concentrating on the multitude of problems girls faced as they grew up, and none of them fascinated her at all except maybe the ultimate goal to be thin. Bulimia, anorexia. Spastic exercising and starvation. All those freaky things teens did to lose weight. Nina scoffed as she stopped to visit her locker, eyes losing focus on the paper as she felt Dante pass by behind her. She had never wanted to lose weight before she met Dante. She had no complaints, since every morning she had been noticing the reason for her ravaging hunger - she looked down and practically gasped in the shower when she saw her body had been starting to carve itself into something like athletic. She blamed her demon.

He didn't deny it when she asked him, getting dressed for school that morning: _I'm making you better. You do not notice since I do this for you as you sleep. You are hungrier but that is fine. You must replace what you lose with muscle anyway - which I also do for you._

* * *

After suffering through an hour-and-a-half of solid note-taking through two classes, she made it through study hall by conversing with Alia. Her breathing was thin and uneven; Alia was sometimes an asthmatic during the fall, when mold and wetness triggered episodes. It explained why she looked so horrible all the time. Nina suspected that Alia was a premature baby when she was born, too.

Dante had not appeared in any of her morning classes, which made her desperate to see him by the time lunch came around. Embarassed privately by her own feelings, Nina gave up looking for him and concentrated on eating the gargantuan lunch she had brought in for herself, rather than buying over-priced, under-cooked pizza.

"Really," her mother had scolded playfully that morning as Nina made her lunch, "You'd think you were going out of your way to stock up for winter! You're not a bear, you know!"

She chowed down on a thermis-full of macaroni stroganoff leftovers. Her stomach triumphantly gurgled. She didn't hear Alia sit down until she heard a slight sniffle.

"Are you feeling okay?"

Alia smiled wanly, settling her books on the table in front of her.

Nina offered her a scoop of cheesy stroganoff. "You really ought to eat more. You look like you're gonna blow away in a strong breeze."

"It's not going to help, I am afraid."

Just then, Dante made his entrance; in a heartbeat, every feminine voice rose in excited chatter, giggling, and general hubbub. Nina rolled her eyes, and pretended she was not bristling as he sat down with a thump.

"You're really something," she growled.

"What?" He looked genuinely confused.

"Don't pretend you don't notice all the chicks in here wetting themselves at the sight of you." She gobbled; she grumbled. Not a thing she said made sense to Dante which also served to worsen her mood. "You ought to try not to draw any more attention to yourself like that!"

"I can't help it." His flashing grin made her absolutely infuriated.

She screwed the lid back onto the thermis which contained her lunch and hucked it into her lunch bag. Then she stuffed it in between her text books in her bookbag. She decided to change the subject, fast. "Have you found out about the you-know-what?"

"I talked to some girls... and all of 'em say yeah, that Elfie girl went missing. It's still kind of hard to sift through, y'know, rumors and exaggerations and such. But all I found out was that the girl who was her best friend frequently goes to the bathroom during seventh period - apparently to cry or something. I guess she had a class with Elfie." He brought his hands behind his head and leaned back so far that only two chair legs stood firmly on the floor. "And when she comes back, she doesn't do anything in class."

"Are you saying-- you want to investigate the seventh period class?"

"I'm saying I think I'll take a trip to the bathroom during mine. But I want you to stay out of this." He jerked a finger directly at her, a perfectly menacing stare on his face. "This is MY business. I'm still looking in on you but that doesn't mean you can tag along. You haven't forgotten what happens when you and trouble get mixed up, do you?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Her lips quivered a little. "But Adam, I _like_ hanging out with you. It makes me just _so_ happy."

All this time, Alia had gotten up quietly and walked away, finding her silent reading nook she had selected as hers during her time in high school. She read a book, or seemed to be. When her glasses slid down the bridge of her nose, she didn't fix them.

Just then the bell rang and she had to get up fast to get to her next class quickly. Nina gave "Adam" a withering look before storming off to her next class. She had to try hard to avoid decimating anyone during gym class, or fidgeting too hard through the next few classes.

Something else was bothering her about Alia that she couldn't put her finger on. Today, as she sat next to her, her bones ached as if something was hurting her.

* * *

Dante kept an open demon sense to the wind, hoping to catch a trace of the demon that was in this school. He had a pretty good idea that it was the girl who fled to the bathroom seventh period - or she was meeting a demon there, seduced from reality into being its scapegoat. Either way, he was hoping to make a dash to beat her to the bathrooms. As he walked along, he realized it was harder and harder to discern Nina's inarguably demonic aura from anything other than human. He was worried about her, no doubt; he was even more worried now that he had to give up looking after her to troubleshoot the little "foreign exchange student" problem. Would it not really ruin the rest of the month if he lost her to the demon...?

So far, he could trust the demon not to try anything - he couldn't believe he was admitting that to himself. But there it was: he had to trust the demon, or he'd go nuts and waste the rest of his time keeping her out of trouble. I need to get a new day job.

He lent half an ear to the lesson, honestly not interested in what the teacher was saying until five minutes after class had started. Then he interrupted politely with a, "Sorry!" as he stood up and walked three steps out the door, giving a pained apologetic smile to the teach. At least she was trying to make her topic interesting.

The east hallway bathroom wasn't an often-visited bathroom, since a majority of the classrooms used were in the west. He darted quickly in case he missed her, quickly counted and observed the stalls, listening for any female that would be surprised to find a male interested in relieving his bowels in the girl's room. He had never felt more aware or anxious of the weight his guns against the small of his back. There were people - children, he had to remind himself more sternly - involved. People he had to protect, even if it meant taking more than his share of blows at their expense. He gritted his teeth.

Looking after Kiddo was beginning to sound less and less like fun and more like work.

He nonchalantly leaned against the wall, confidence unwavering, his breathing even, his arms crossed casually so his hands disappeared into his jacket.

* * *

It was as if she had broken into a cold sweat as she drew closer to demons. Their presence instilled a certain symptomology in certain sensitive individuals; some might feel cold or hot, nauseated, anxious. The general aura of demons left her feeling physically exhausted. The idea that she could sense 'otherworldly beings' had developed first as an allergic reaction - that the scent she percieved from certain people was some kind of perfume. Alia had been deeply allergic to perfumes since she was small. For awhile it would have made sense. But as the years drew on, and the pain in her body that accompanied being in the presence of certain invididuals became less coincidence and more of a sign, she began to pay more attention to what her body and mind told her.

Her parents had nothing to offer her except a firm conviction that their child was troubled - a product of her environment at school, where she was routinely shunned for her pale skin, freckles, odd habits. Alia's parents loved her, but they were close-minded, hard workers and had no time for her fanciful ideations of fantasy. Her parents discouraged it even more as she drew away from childhood and into adolescence. As she matured, so did her perceptions of those whose scent pervaded her awareness.

It was a psychic scent, a deep-rooted awareness that developed into seeing past the human veneer and into the monstrous faces that peered out. Sometimes she hid as soon as she saw them; her heart racing, palms sweating and every thread of her body chilled to the marrow. It was hard to stomach the mental rape of some demons that weren't even aware of what they were doing. Her terror became tolerable as weeks passed, realizing that her visions were not borne of inherant madness. Controlling her fear, she realized that none of the demons she saw took any notice of her. She never dared to speak to them, even if it meant resolving her own doubts of sanity even though she was certain the visions were real.

Alia encountered a demon close-up and personal when she was only thirteen over summer vacation in Florida. Expressing the first rare signs of spontaneity, her parents had decided to take their savings and go all out vacation. In a small seaside resort, her parents were slain by demons with pina cooladas clutched in their bronzed fingers.

That summer was when she realized she was more than just clairvoyant but possibly otherworldy as well. She had seen demons everywhere, congregating all along the beach, their furtively red glowing eyes lighting up the evenings and nights. Nightly, her body was wracked with horrible fevers and during the day, she was freezing in the full heat of the Florida sun. Her warnings went unheeded by her parents, by authorities.

Then she had met him. His coldness was oppressive, and she had been sitting with her towel clutched around her shoulders at the hotel poolside when he approached. She didn't feel him until he stood next to her, his hand lightly bringing attention to the hilt of a long, eastern-Asian sword sheathed at his hip. He was tall and proud, and his scent comingled with something like a human's. He had never told her his name, but his hair was a powdery white, sharply styled up away from his frigid eyes. He had told her that the visions she saw were nothing short of the truth and she was a rare, gifted young woman. His stare was cold as the sword he held dripped with the blood of the demons that had slaughtered her parents. She couldn't say to this day whether she had been "saved" or simply spared. His words had an edge and a voice that dripped venom when he told her she would be among the few that deserved a place in the world if only she would realize her own power.

Then, from afar, she had witnessed Temen Ni Gru rise and fall from a hospital bed as her "frail health" threatened to take her life. She could not help but wish in her heart that Vergil Sparda would fail. She never heard or saw from him again, and the demons that threatened places she had never even heard of slowly faded from foreign headlines.

Running away from the hospital may not have been smart, but it was her only option. People were always curious. She existed as a ghostly shadow, a drifter from one city to the next until she pressured money from a woman named Stria to help her begin her life over. The house she lived in belonged to someone else entirely, but that someone lived in a different place and had no use for the space. Alia filled the house with a few belongings, but she had little money to spare and worked quietly under the table for what little food she managed to put in her fridge. She became Nina's friend, attended school, and scraped by as a devil-finder.

When Nina returned, she had been terrified and sad. She saw the demon's face that resided within her, but she was hesitant about confronting Nina who probably was not even aware of her predicament. How could she kill the demon without destroying her only friend she had in the human world? The situation rankled her until she had accepted the decision to simply wait it out and see if the demon would leave her, jump to some other host, or go back to where it had come from.

Last week, when "Adam" walked in through the door, Alia felt the same skin-scraping chill as he drew near. She recognized the face, even if his smile was crooked, his walk more of a swagger. She knew the demonic odor so well, recollecting it from the dredges of memory. The swordsman's penumbra of cold had consumed the heat of the Florida night and made the sweat freeze. But Adam...

She knew her purpose since the demons stripped her of her family and her would-be rescuer revealed her monsters to be as real as the hair on her head. She would fight demons. She would make them suffer if she could. For many years, the demons suffered. She found them in the community, innocent or not, bloodthirsty or harmless. Her power blossomed from observation to being able to hurt them - in ways that horrified her, thrilled her. Beneath the skin she was not just a freckle-faced, ugly, nerdy girl. She was a power to be reckoned with and that's what mattered more.

Alia knew about the demon that had killed Elfie. The deceased had been gone for far too long. She knew the culprit's was not Sarah and there was no real remors being expressed when the demon squeezed what little tears it could from its fake mask. Alia also knew that because of her new condition - the strange, painful formations on her body - she was especially weak. But she couldn't let Adam trick Nina by bringing the demon down himself. She could not begin to say what kind of twisted carnal aspirations he had for Nina, but she was determined to put an end to it. In time.

The east hallway was silent. The windows jutted out into the open courtyard which was also empty; the freckle-faced young woman slipped in between against the windows, careful that her shadow did not fall on the floor. Her eyes and ears could decieve her - she knew that about demons. So she opened her secret sense; she smelled and felt the air... and felt a strong undeniable tingle of cold from the bathroom already. The maleness of it told her who it was - Adam had already beaten her there. But it was so quiet - was she too late?

Suddenly she heard footsteps coming down the hallway, and she withdrew against the wall, judging from the sensation that it was coming from the opposite end of the hallway. Sarah, the demon, would enter the bathroom, and Adam would be there, waiting.

Alia clenched her hands, calling upon her reserves of strength. Her mind surged; her body tensed, then shuddered as wracking pain exploded through her shoulders, spreading through her ribcage, arresting her breathing at once.

But she couldn't stop the hunt now. Her thoughts bent to the demon that had killed Elfie, another estranged girl, willing death, destruction, anything - but the circle of influence she boasted of shrank as soon as the pain began. She braced herself against the wall, her lip caught between her teeth hard enough to make blood spill.

* * *

The door creaked open. But it was wrong. Sarah pushed a little more, her breath frozen as her fingertips brushed across the well-worn door handle. It wasn't supposed to feel like this. Not cold. Not like prickling knives cutting away at her hunger. And what kind of hunger but for the sweet, succulent souls of young girls? She had likened to Elfie's - a rare, artistic, tortured thing. An abusive father, an alcoholic mother. It was too much to resist. She promised Elfie friendship, an open door, a place to stay. Seduced her with safety. She carved a path straight to her soul. And there it stayed, pulsing like a separate heart.

Her flesh had tasted just as delicious. What a shame that it was still not enough to slake her thirst.

Her trips to the bathroom were just an excuse to refresh her memories and also escape to the sanctuary where others awaited. The doorway to her secret paradise was in this bathroom. It was a small matter of finishing the archaic spell she wrote on the wall and passing through into her domain.

But today, it wasn't supposed to feel like this - there was her own trepidation about taking these trips. Visiting her hidden realm at this hour was the only way to be assured she could enjoy her meals in peace. If there was a girl visiting the bathroom also? Well, it was too much of a temptation to simply wait for the stupid bitch to finish her business. She had gone out of her way to perfect the skill of drinking from her soul, leaving just enough to get her back to the classroom. It never satisfied, but it kept her safe because the victims never remembered.

With a steely resolve, she slowly withdrew from the door, an anguished throbbing in her stomach. Her entire being rebelled against this feeling. She should come back some other time, when it felt safer. Turning away, the demon walked back down the hallway, hissing in hatred. She had to trust her instincts; it was the only way to keep herself in this world.

* * *

After the last bell, Nina was waiting for him, her longsleeve black shirt covering her hands as she crossed her arms. She was leaning against the wall with a scowl that could freeze a boy in his tracks. However, Dante was unmoved. He slung the massive guitar case over one shoulder and sauntered over, Alia trailing behind him with the cold compress clutched to her chest along with the rest of her school books. Alia lingered, looking at Dante and smiling. "Thank you again..."

"What? Thank you for what?" Nina demanded, dropping her hands to her hips, her scowl becoming more aggressive.

"I fell in the hallway when Adam found me," she said, looking down with a fierce blush. "But I must go home now. Farewell." Her soft-spoken words troubled Nina, who stepped forward to drop her hands on her shoulders. Alia flinched as if she had been scorched.

"What's happening at home?" Nina demanded softly, looking to find and meet Alia's eyes behind her curtain of hair. "Please don't shut me out. I'm your friend, aren't I?"

"I'm fine," she said, pulling away. "I can't stay... I've got to go..."

She walked across the street and stopped at the sidewalk as if out of breath. Nina was almost tempted to go after her, but eventually the sickly teenager continued onward, her lips pressed together to keep herself from screaming.

"She's not okay, is she?" Nina said softly. She shook her head, sighing angrily. "Nobody bothers to tell me anything! Do I have to beat it out of them?"

"Maybe that's the reason why nobody wants to share?" He chuckled as she shot a look his way. "There's bad news," he said. "The demon didn't show today."

Turning to go, his movement was halted by her hand on his elbow, firm and desperate. "Dante." The name was almost like a caress. "Please tell me if you're going to go after demons. In case something goes wrong."

"I can't have you getting in my way."

"You fucking egotistical pig." She stormed away, spun around short of ten steps away. "You know, you're going to regret thinking that I was some helpless chick you can just rescue. I don't need you to protect me anymore."

"I wouldn't do anything stupid if I were you." Dante advanced on her, casually, but there was a predatory grace and intent behind each step.

"Or what? You'll... shoot me?" She smiled wickedly, matching his slow lazy grin. His own arrogant expression strengthened, ice blue eyes twinkling. Unable to withdraw from the idea she had, she met him halfway.

Dante hadn't a clue what she was planning on doing, and his blood heated with the desire to cut her off at the chase, before she did-- her arms locked around his waist, sliding under his jacket and touching the worked leather holsters that housed a couple of his precious weapons. He could feel her trembling as she pressed against his chest through the thin, insubstantial shirt he wore to school to at least obey the dress code.

He had to wonder if this was Nina - or her demon, acting through her, weakening him. He only knew one thing for sure: _I'm was no cradle-robber, damn it_. But her confident swagger and too-curious exploration of his precious Ebony and Ivory made him on edge in more ways than just the predatory. His skin prickled, goosebumps jumping up all over his back.

"Nina." He shifted his hips, pushing her away with them, and he was relieved beyond description that the movement scared her enough to back off. Her fingers brushed his sides and it wrung some small, gaspy breaths from him. She didn't notice, he hoped. But as soon as she was beyond touching him, he circled his fingers around her left bicep and led her down the sidewalk. When he let go, he was pleased to see she had fallen into step, following him. She didn't ask where they were going, and when they passed his car parked a little up the street, she still didn't question him.

They turned toward her street. His hands slid into his pockets, displaying either boredom or discomfort, but his face was a stony mask of determination. Nina's heart leapt in her throat as he angled toward her doorstep, walking across the lawn before hopping onto the walk instead. He waited patiently when she stopped three steps ago, her eyes studying him with suspicion.

"What are you doing?"

"Meeting your parents." He jerked his thumb toward her house. "Isn't this where you live?"

Nina shifted her bookbag's weight, a haunted fear creeping into her eyes. "You... can't."

"Why not?"

"I don't want them to get on my case." She looked down. "And start calling you my boyfriend. You don't like me anyway."

_Goddammit._ Why did she have to be so damn honest? "That's not one-hundred percent true. I like you just fine. You put up a decent fight and you're a smartass like me." It was becoming hard to keep his voice level. "Besides, you don't want me to look after you then this is the deal: I get to be your 'friend' outside of school." _This is work_, he thought. _I'm doing this to keep her distant._

It wasn't easy to tell her that. Somehow Dante was certain she would cry. And he didn't like making ladies cry. It settled sour in his stomach. Something told him deep down inside that he'd rather see her get pissed than start blubbering. "Listen, just introduce me as Adam and say you're hanging out with me."

"Like that doesn't sound suspicious at all," she complained, but she walked up to the front door. "You can meet mom first, since she's usually home." She reached for the doorknob, took a bracing breath of pre-winter air, and pulled.


	9. Itchy Trigger Finger

**A/U: **Oooh, updates!!

**Teenage Girls with Cameras**

**Chapter 9: Itchy Trigger Finger**

The door swung open; Dante saw a woman standing at a kitchen sink past a landscape of living room furniture. Nina had to resist the urge to drag him out of the doorway before her mother noticed him; fear would only make him mad at her, annoyed. This whole meeting was inconcievable, and yet here it was, about to happen. He had to walk through the living room to the linoleum safety of the kitchen. For a second, he looked bewildered by the absolutely normal tint to everything. A T.V., a sofa, a kitchen table, random stuff piled on the table that would never see the darkness of a drawer. It was as if he expected to see demonic rituals being performed in every corner of the room. Instead, everything smelled of dust, warm wood, and floral carpet freshener. It was the warm, cluttered home of a family who had used the space for many years and had not really gotten together for a yard or garage sale. She knew for a fact that the last yard sale had taken place when she was born to make room for all the new baby stuff, toys, collected crap that kids always get.

His foot hovered on the threshold before he walked in after her, his boots making soft thumps on the carpetted floor. As they wiped the snow off their feet on the welcome mat, Nina was starting to lose some of her fear.

The woman in the kitchen heard the door shut; she hadn't heard them come in when the water was running. She smiled, her dark hair swinging in a day-old braid that was starting to fray. She looked long at Dante, then coughed, "Well. I think he needs an introduction. Is this the new student you've gone on about?"

Nina nodded, straining to rein in her annoyance. She didn't have to do all this, dammit. She could have stayed at school. This wasn't worth the risk of her mother's long-winded lectures. "Yeah," she said reluctantly. "This is Adam. Adam, this is my mother."

A refreshingly beaming smile glowed from Dante's face as he closed the distance between himself and the woman. He reached out to grasp her hand warmly. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am."

"You can call me Mrs. Harper, Adam." She gave a little smile, wary and protective. Not just any stranger had entered her home unannounced, but it was a male. And he had come with her daughter. Nina knew her mother's thoughts almost as well as she knew her own sometimes.

_Hope she doesn't think we're going to tell her I'm pregnant or something_, Nina thought, trying to mask her shudder.

As Dante let go of her hand, he looked uneasy. Nina tried to figure out what was rubbing Dante the wrong way; panic began to fight for space within her. She had no way of knowing what sort of things Dante was looking for to know for sure what kind of demons were plaguing the house as well as Nina. Her hope to avoid disaster dwindled with the light outside the window.

Sensing Nina's mood intuitively, Mrs. Harper avoided another question burning a hole through her tongue and offered Dante a diet soda. He declined politely. She sat in an armchair, leaving the sofa to the other two. The younger pair left enough space to possibly squeeze her dad's maroon Buick through between them.

"So where are you from, Adam?"

"Out of town. I moved in with my mom after my dad got a different job somewhere in Colorado."

"Do you drive?"

"Yeah but my car's parked over back at the school." He leaned back, struggling to eliminate the bored expression on his face. I'm doing this for Nina, he thought. "I just wanted to visit and tell you- I mean, ask you - if I can go out with your daughter."

Nina jerked so hard, she kicked the coffee table. Her teeth grimaced in a look so ferocious, Dante was pretty sure she'd love to bite his nuts off. Not only that, but she was most likely wondering where the hell he got the gall to mess with her life. Well, it wasn't only her life he was messing with at that point. She clenched her teeth to keep the profanities from spilling forth like a molten river of lava.

The smile on her mother's face only fanned the fury of flames.

Please say no, Nina thought furiously. Put him in his damn place. I can't believe the brazen...! Oh, he's seriously going to get an earful and maybe even more if this shit keeps up.

"I thought you would never ask." Her mother looked simply ecstatic. Her hopes crashed, and the demon inside her chortled as if he too garnered some amusement from her plight. She sighed loudly, exasperatedly trying to sink in between the cushions of the sofa. What a drag... now she was going to hear it.

"Mom! Don't listen to him. He's just being a jerk."

"No, I'm not!" Dante looked absolutely mortified. "Haven't I told you how much you mean to me?"

"I'm going to kill you. That's how much _you_ mean to me." Nina slashed him with her deathglaring eyes.

"Now, now, children!" interrupted Mrs. Harper. "There will be no murder here. I can't afford to steam-clean the blood out of the rugs. If you're going to kill each other, please do it outside in the backyard." She looked at them, sure that she had their attention. Then she said softly, eyes asparkle, "I don't want to upset the neighbors across the street."

Dante slapped his leg and laughed hard. He wondered if he was wrong about the weird uneasiness. "Hey, I like this lady's sense of humor! Can I go out with Mrs. Harper instead?"

Nina exclaimed in outrage and shock, mortified by her mother's nonchalant attitude and Dante's brass. But the pair of them against her made her helplessly hysteric. She was laughing for some reason too, as if this was funny. _No_, she thought, _now that he's here, everything's different. But why is it good different instead of bad?_

"Why do you want to go out with Nina so much? You're a bit older, right? And I think it's obvious she doesn't want to go out with you." Mrs. Harper stood up, her eyes gleaming with silent interest; she spoke with a tone that suggested sincere interest in knowing the answers. "And also, anyone up for some cocoa? Kind of cold out... I'm gonna make some. Keep talking, I can hear you." She vanished into the kitchen.

"Well, I want to know more about her. I mean in the ... person kind of way. I've never been so fascinated by a person before. I guess it sounds nosey if I want to know where she grew up, what she was like as a kid. I dunno." Dante looked down at the coffee table. "And cocoa sounds good."

"Me too," Nina added softly.

Mrs. Harper returned with the cocoa. "You'll have to stir yours."

While they stirred, Dante murmured, "So I guess that's a no?" He did his best to sound disappointed.

The woman shrugged. "No. I mean, if you want to know more about her, why don't you just ask her? I don't know where you go the idea of dating her."

"She's a bit selective about what I get to know and what I don't get to hear."

"Oh." This answer did not explain very much at all. Mom seemed a bit distrustful all the same. She continued to look at the pair; the mournful way Nina stirred cocoa made her doubt Dante even more. In spite of that, she said, "Well, she was always a bit different. For example, when she was little, she used to get sick a lot."

Dante nodded, leaning forward to sip his cocoa and become attentive.

"If so much as a sniffle went around in school, she got it. She was sick almost all of the time. But the worst was a fever that ran nearly up to 106. We had to hospitalize her and everything. She lost a lot of memories from her early childhood as a result of her brain overheating." Her voice got a strange level of reverent quiet, because she still considered a miracle had occured after that long weekend when they came home.

"I don't remember that," said Nina.

"I know you don't. A lot of what you experienced that year disappeared. Second grade seemed to disappear completely. I feel bad because you couldn't retake it and you struggled a lot in third grade."

"So I was always sick?" She scratched her palm, looking down at her hand just to see it, to make sure it was still human. This was weird; she would have remembered if she had gotten THAT sick. But maybe the fever really did eliminate all recollection. She was grateful for that much. Remembering the pain and suffering of a fever of that magnitude made everything else that had happened before then pale in comparison. Being a little kid would not have helped either.

"Yes. And the funny thing was you had the weirdest rash..."

The devil hunter narrowed his eyes. "On her left hand?"

"Yes!" Mrs. Harper answered. "How'd you know?"

Nina looked pale and scared, blinking repeatedly as confusion gave way to more fear.

Her mother went on, "It went all the way up to her shoulder, and then overnight it went away. She was outside playing the very next day, couldn't remember anything about the hospital visit. It was so terrifying, watching her skin turn red and black and blue, like some kind of massive bruise. As far as I knew, she hadn't fallen or hurt herself, and I was with her the whole time."

The living room fell into an impregnable silence. Heavy. The weight of more knowledge crushed Nina's voice into oblivion. She gulped her cocoa without looking at Dante, wondering what he was thinking to have asked those questions about her. Did he suspect something before he had come all the way here? What if he decided to kill her anyway? Feeling her fingers freeze with shock, trembling more with her sudden burgeoning fear, the girl gave a start when Dante suddenly said, "Well, I gotta say I've never heard of that one before. But that's pretty cool that you lived and all that." She missed his wink when he continued, "I got to meet a cool chick like you for instance."

His words were starting to sound pretty empty to her. To anyone else, they were sweet honey - but it was honey-flavored poison to her. She stuck her spoon in her mouth to hide the grimace and nodded, glimpsing red as he stood up and drained his cocoa - which must have scalded his throat. It was still hot.

He wouldn't kill her now that he's met her mom, would he? Dante was not that heartless. And that story about the fever did not mean anything. She just a little kid cursed with a weak immune system, that's all. It was coincidence that her left arm got a weird rash. Coincidence. Yeah, coincidence. She bitterly regretted having Dante meet her mother. Hated him for inadvertently stumbling on evidence that may just make her life more of a living Hell than it already was. She heard her mother ask if "Adam" was leaving already.

"Yeah, I wish I could stay longer. But I don't wanna impose."

"It's no problem. Next time, let me know ahead of time and you can stay for dinner!" Her mother should not have sounded happy. If only she knew...

"I'll see him to the door," Nina said suddenly, abandoning her mug to the coffee table and leading Dante to the front door, practically bruising his fingers as she dragged him. She walked outside, calling, "I'll just be a minute!" before she closed the door, standing outside in the snow with the devil hunter.

"Your mom's cool?" Dante offered, grinning, snow disappearing in his pale hair.

Nina swore colorfully - and under her breath - before she said, "Look. You do not come into my house and make me look stupid. You do not interrogate my mother about my childhood, which is none of your goddamn business!" Her fingers itched. She felt the demon inside her creeping around just beneath her skin, feeding from her anger. The urge to punch, slam, maim, was starting to feel pretty good. Who was more willing to do the maiming? She wasn't sure, but it wouldn't matter pretty soon.

"You made the agreement, remember?" His amusement fizzled in an instant. The air felt much colder between them, charged with that spiteful distrust.

"I didn't agree to let you hit on me in front of my mother, or ask for my hand in courtship!" She stomped on a clump of snow with a fierce snarl. "I didn't agree to let you ruin my life!"

"What's the big deal? All I asked were a couple of questions. Why all the fire and brimstone, sweetheart?" He caught her fist as it swung toward his face. He squeezed her wrist until she winced. His serious gaze scoured her. He said to both of them, "Calm down before you go back in there, you hear me? I don't want you to lose what you have here." He squeezed harder when she started to struggle. He grabbed her by the other arm and pulled her closer, squeezing his other arm around her waist until she squeaked, only her toes scraping the snowy doorstep.

Nina's red-hazed vision faded slowly from within his nearly-crushing hold. Instead, she felt her face turn redder and redder, her body aching. "Why are you such a jerk?"

"Because it turns heads? I don't know." He put her back down, stepping away. "Are you cool now?"

She shoved her hands into her pockets, trembling. "Freezing, actually."

"Sheesh. Remind me never to threaten you with romance again, will ya?" He walked off down the walk into the falling snow.

Nina barely murmured, "See you tomorrow."

She watched him until he vanished behind the neighbor's fence before retreating indoors.

* * *

Alia soaked in the bathtub, the shower head blasting scalding water on her shoulders while she bit a cloth between her teeth. Each wave of pain sent dazzling brightness lancing her eyes. In spite of the maelstrom of soul-ripping agony sending ripples through her skin, she was bizarrely silent. Her hair stuck to her skin everywhere. She had no way to cry out... no idea when this agony would be suspended, when she'd find relief. The only temporary relief was in the heat of the water, which even now no longer dulled the pulling, ripping, tearing inside of her flesh.

She had wondered if this was a way her power got back to her, returning to her threefold like in the books she read. Witchcraft. Something that could never fully explain the demons she encountered. Or describe why she was experiencing this pain. She never called on her power until she was absolutely sure it was needed. But she knew it would not stop there anymore. She could not even call on it today, when she was certain Adam was going to interfere. Why did he help her to the nurse's office? He could have killed her or sealed her away somewhere. Nothing she knew about demons added up with him. She closed her eyes as another wave of agony arrested her thoughts, spiking to a fever pitch that sent her body doubling over until she was nearly breathing in bath water. When it was over, she whimpered and spat out the cloth.

She stared through tear-streaked eyes at the pink-tinged water she sat in. Then she gingerly reached for the string leading to the rubber bath plug and pulled it, knowing that the pain would not abate any more if she sat longer. The water drained, while the shower poured streaming water along her aching body.

Alia had to act, had to know. The other demon at school preying on girls wouldn't wait for her to feel better. She gulped back her pain as she regained her feet. The shrill cry of pain sounded unlike her own voice, but regardless it still came out of her mouth. She swabbed her back gingerly with a cloth and rinsed the blood off with more water before she clambered out. She ignored the bony female in the mirror, concentrating instead on the bloody inch-long protrusions sticking from her back. She had to hide them somehow to go to school tomorrow. She dug about with one hand bracing her on the sink for bandages and tape in the medicine cabinet with the other. She pointlessly gulped three aspirin, bandaged herself as best as she could manage before loosely draped herself in a towel and climbed into bed a quivering mass of spasm-inducing discomfort.

--

The same routine occured the following day at school, only this time Nina did not complain when he winked at the girls on his way to the lunch table. Nor was Alia present. Having glimpsed her once in the hall, Nina knew she was at school. But maybe Alia was just observing some weird holiday, or just not feeling well. It angered her even more that she still would not let Nina know what was bothering her, or why she wouldn't just miss a couple days of school to take care of herself. She did not even look at Dante as she ate her two grilled cheese sandwiches and slurped creamy, hot tomato soup.

"Have you seen Alia today?"

"No. Since yesterday, not a glimpse."

"Oh. You know, I'm going to her house after school today to check on her. You should come, too."

"Maybe."

"What do you mean, maybe? I thought you liked her."

"I like her, okay. Not as much as you, the daughter of sunshine and rainbows. I meant I might not make it since I'm waiting for you-know-who again."

"Oh yeah." She glowered at him, a fresh source of anguish piercing at her patience. "Hey, you wanna let me come help you today or not?"

"Only if you promise to stand watch."

Nina's eyes darkened suspiciously. "From my classroom?"

Dante gasped theatrically. "How did you guess?"

"You're--"

"--a jerk. I know."

"I was thinking something a bit pithier that would do a bit more justice. But okay. We'll stay simple." Nina packed away her lunch items and stood up. "You can't stop me from at least showing up unannounced. This isn't something you're deciding anymore. I'm tired of asking. I'm helping." _The demon in my school, which is my turf, has got to go. He can piss and moan about it all he wants. I'm not being pushed aside and protected - or just pushed aside - anymore._

Suddenly a blanket of silence covered only them. It muffled all other noises echoing in the room, except for the tapping footsteps of someone approaching their table. It was Sarah, flanked by two other girls of lesser social rank. Her greasy smile beamed at Dante as if she had never smiled before. She was dressed fairly, warm against the winter but there the functionality ended completely.

"Adam, hi." Sarah stood near his side, her supportive girls hanging back with tiny oily smiles of their own, giving slashing, disapproving looks at Nina who was clenching her left hand and trying to find her pocket with it.

"Hi, you." Dante arched a single dark-silver brow and assessed the female who now invaded his personal space with every apparent intention of garnering some sort of attention from him. Sarah giggled prettily.

Nina said, "Excuse me, but what do you want?" She couldn't cross the line of rude too fast. She had to remind herself that Sarah had lost a best friend - but she was hardly acting like a heartbroken, tear-wrinkled grieving best-friend-widow now.

"Adam, who's your little friend?" Sarah placed her hand very stealthfully on Dante's shoulder, squeezing ever so gently. Leather creaked. "I don't think I deserve her attitude. Relax, girl."

Girl. Like she was some - girly slut she could command. Nina felt her temper fine-point into needle-accuracy. Just one sharp crack over her grinning face and Nina would feel better. "You didn't say hi to me, that's all."

"That's because I'm talking to Adam, hon. Adam. Not you. And Adam's not interested in sitting with you anymore anyway. Go find your little lesbian friend before she dies of AIDs."

Her flunkies burst out laughing, and Adam looked confused for a second. Then a flicker in his eyes distracted Nina from stomping around the table and giving a little more blush to Sarah's cheeks - and maybe taking out a few teeth. He stood up and slid his arm around Sarah's delicate, sweater-knitted waist and smirked at the female, who melted against his side as if she was born to stick there like chewed-up bubble gum.

"Relax," he told everyone within earshot. Especially Nina. His eyes washed her with something like cool, cruel boredom tainted with mischief. "I'll be back. I promise."

Nina told herself to leash her anger as they all walked away, ignoring the snide comments left by the two female lackeys before they too went on their merry way. There was something in the way he promised his return that eased her sense of betrayal; the way his eyes had razed her with that look. That calm, self-assured, cocky business look. What was he thinking? Was he going to lure Sarah somewhere alone to make out with her, or to find out whether she was really the demon they were looking for? She was not sure which - it was hard to tell the difference between Dante the Lover, and Dante the Cocky Self-Assured Devil Hunter. She swallowed her hurt, anger, and bile; there was only one way to find out which one of those two she had just witnessed.

She lunged into the hallway, speaking in her mind, _Demon, you better start telling me if you sensed any demonic energies seeping off that bitch. Even if you didn't, I'm still going to kill her._

_The girl that Dante took away? I cannot say by what human standards you find her so distasteful, but you are right in assuming she is dripping with all the usual demonic malice. She's a hungry little queen spider, and she has selected her first male victim._

Nina navigated people as the bell rang, trying to keep Dante in sight, and halted, watching the pair of lovebirds hover by a row of lockers, Dante leaning intimiately close to Sarah. His fingertips caressed her cheek; her starry-eyed look reminded her of something hungry for a triple bacon cheeseburger, not a kiss from a hunky beefcake. Then he leaned close and brushed his lips over hers and Nina's heart fell into her stomach, melted in stomach acid.

"Son of a bitch." Had her mouth moved? She launched herself away from the scene as fast as she could, shoving a small and insignificant ninth grader - he was in her way - and fumbled with her locker combination for thirty seconds before she realized the numbers were getting blurred all together. Blinking, she thought hard. Just a demon. That's all she was.

Her chest hurt along with the burning sizzling in her arm that sprang up and slammed into her locker door. "Fuck you!" The fist left a dent, and then another before she stormed off to class.

* * *

Fury reddened the edges of Nina's vision as she followed the unmistakable musk of demon scent down to the abandoned bathroom that Dante had staked out a couple days ago. Her heart was pounding and the risk of discovery was exhilirating. She had made sure to stop and visit the bathroom to see if she was beginning to change anywhere other than her arm. It wouldn't do to start looking the part of the demon if Dante suddenly came out with guns blazing. Satisfied that she still looked refreshingly human - albeit her face flushed with fifteen flavors of pissed off - she had gone on down the hall to "help" Dante with his little problem.

The danger of fighting no longer frightened her. Waves of confidence dulled her fear, certain that her new demon was a friend in this case. It would only take a few minutes. She waited by the bathroom door, hiding in a windowed crevasse listening and reaching out for any sign of Dante or that greasy, sickening feeling of Sarah.

She had no idea that the bathroom might have spells or hexes on it to hide any trace of demonic presence once they were already inside. It had occured to her, but she wanted to wait first before she just barged on in. It did not matter if she was interrupting an intimate session or a deeply hot, intense battle. She pressed her left knuckles against her lower lip before she slid toward the bathroom door. Her heart still pounded, but it was a metronome to measure her breaths, to gather her fury again. It would eradicate any doubts she had about anything she did in the next few minutes. It also made her forget why seeing Dante kissing someone else made her so angry-

The teenager nudged open the swinging bathroom door, and peered around the dividing wall, clamping her fingers on the tiles.

"Are you gonna tell me what you've been up to in here?" The sultry male voice sent a shiver through her. How many times had she heard that tone of voice drill into her heart the same terror she was beginning to remember now?

Except this time, she was not the recipient of the message behind the voice.

"I asked you a question."

A pained moan answered him.

_Be careful_, the demon inside her coaxed. _ I feel something in him that has nothing to do with being your friend._

Dante Sparda lifted the girl and slammed her against a bathroom stall divider and Nina flinched, hearing something important crack. "Is this where you take your meals these days? Hardly a five-star restaurant, is it?" He slammed again and again. Then she felt the wall shudder and she jerked back just in time to avoid being struck by bits of plaster and tiles. Her first instinct was to just get out of the way, but she hopped around to avoid getting crushed by pieces of the wall.

That allowed her to see the rest of the bathroom. The sink fixtures bent, the cheap porcelaine fallen apart and crushed underfoot. She thought she saw the towel dispenser somewhere beneath a towel turned upside down. Then she saw Dante standing with his guns in each hand, his boot crushing someone - something - Sarah's spine? But he had not really noticed anything else yet. He might have seen her, but he was all business and would deal with Nina. Somehow.

But not yet.

"Show me where you hide your other victims."

"Are you sure?" In spite of the agony it was obviously in, the demon sounded amused. Then it made a noise, spoke some kind of phrase and it made Nina's stomach turn upside down with the rest of the room. The walls and the wreckage were swept away in a sandy maelstrom, a dull roar filling her ears. She grasped out for something to hold onto and fell over, her limbs akimbo as purgatory roared around them.

_It's a gateway_, her demon soothed. _ I don't know where it's leading us. But you're safe. I won't let you be lost._

But it was still churning her stomach to be taken across dimensions like this, without warning. And alone in the dark with just the demon inside of her to comfort her made everything weigh on her sane mind, threatening to snap it.


	10. The Battles Within Everyone

**A/U: **This chapter is kind of gorey...

**Teenage Girls with Cameras**

**Chapter 10**: The Battles Within Everyone

She was released from the demon gate's grasp, deposited on a hard, stony floor. Her belly was getting jabbed with a rock and she rolled over slowly, breathing deep air that did not altogether agree with her. Great. On top of being dazzled beyond description, I'm was about to start getting reacquainted with lunch. And where the hell is Dante, anyway? At least I still exist. More or less. I'm not lost. One honesty point for the demon in my arm.

Which was correct: she was not lost, just as her demon had promised her. She breathed, even though the stink of demon in the air made her want to never, ever breathe again. She sat up slowly, aching and edgy, her surroundings as alien to her as Mars. Maybe the demon hadn't really done her a favor by keeping her stuck out of purgatory--

An enormous spider charged from the darkness, its upper portion starting at where the ugly eyes and mandibles would be was substituted with a woman's torso, arms and head instead. In either case, woman or spider, she had to get get to her feet before it turned around again and charged her again. Becoming spidey-woman food was not on her list of Things I'd Like To Do Before I Die. An eerie set of lungs on her, Nina thought, as the scream issued from the angry demon's lips into the thick air, rebounding off of walls invisible in the unending darkness.

Behind her, a massive web stretched high up into oblivion, laden with people-sized pouches of spidersilk. Oh great, I'm the next best thing next to leftovers.

The she-spider whirled around; all eight-legged fury and hunger washed over her, sending her left arm ablaze. But the pain was far away compared to the immediate danger. If she looked right then, the last thing she would see was her demonic limb fully transformed, ready to serve her. Instead, she glued her eyes to the demon as she staggered to her own feet. Dante was nowhere in the circle of illumination which included some misshapen rocks which served as anchor points for the enormous web. Not trusting the shadows, it was possible that there was nowhere else to go beyond losing her way in the smoky darkness. She reluctantly backed up one step toward the spider web.

She had to fight now. Well, she felt better about beating up Sarah now, knowing that she was the demon. Dante's instincts were right on the mark. Smiling with glee, Nina lunged toward the spider-bitch with a yell of battle that did not quite meet her standards of coolness.

The spider's dexterous limbs sent Nina slamming into the ground at a roll. She flipped back to her feet and leapt skyward just as the spider-bitch vomited a stream of sticky fluid that was rather like the webbing nearby. She would have been helpless if it got her, but some of it had gotten on her foot. She landed on the ground again, and nearly lost her head when she realized her foot was rooted to the floor.

She used her left hand to claw the webbing; it came free without a hitch. Then her body was crushed beneath the weight of a spider. Her fist struck out blindly, hitting a fuzzy abdomen that stank of blood and something musky - demonic and unsavory, the stench sticking to the roof of her mouth, gagging her. Her fist protruded with a series of monstrous spikes that punctured the sensitive abdomen over and over; each blow produced satisfying squeals of pain until the she-spider staggered away with her mouth twisted in a look of pain, the set of mandibles dripping with venom.

"I was wrong about you," the she-spider whispered, her black eyes glowing with a deepseated glow. "_You're_ the one I keep sensing."

"What are you... talking about?" Nina growled, parrying blows.

"The one inside you, stupid stinking little human. Him I know! I heard he escaped the Demon World. Ha!"

"I'm not real sure I'm glad to be the medium of this happy reunion." Nina jerked back, avoiding a scratch from an angry spider-limb. Then Nina glimpsed behind her and swore.

She had been driven back to the edge of illumination, where she was instinctively sure if she put her arm into the darkness, she wasn't sure it would come back out the same. Or at all. The hungry quality of the swirling miasma waiting for her reminded her of quicksand - only it was in the air, and the more she struggled, the more it would pull her, dragging her further. When Nina stepped back she nearly fell; her foot swung blindly in air, finding nothing to stand on. She fell forward to keep from tumbling back, ashamed of her fearful-yet-relieved cry that she had not been sucked into the darkness. Exhaustion was sapping her reserves of demonic strength, and it was all she could do to avoid another attack from the she-spider. At least the bitch-spider was injured, judging from that smelly fluid leaking from the holes I poked in her. But I can't keep going much longer. Damn it. I can't be like Dante! No more energy to keep dodging and fighting. She thought of Dante and the way he'd been with her and the cruel way he was with demons, so ruthless, and her vision red-blurred, her heart drumming in her ears.

_I'm only giving you a little more_, she thought, directing those thoughts at her demon. She had to win this fight. For Dante to see that she wasn't weak. Nothing else mattered. _But just enough to kill her. No funny business!_

The demon within her purred as he filled her, poisoning her body with demon energy. _Yesss. More. We'll destroy her together._

She was only a possessed human, gifted with a generous demon who helped her out of a need to survive. The strength that gave her would never equal, let alone surpass, the strength of the she-spider or even Dante, who was only half-demon. While the spider-bitch had been battered about a bit by Dante, she had a better chance of bringing her down. And, she added privately, maybe Dante would admit that she wasn't just a girl anymore, that she was worthy of fighting alongside him.

Not that she cared _too much_ about what he thought about her.

Pain trickled through her while her demon slid his influence through her skin, making her right arm belong to him as well. Instead of a spiked bludgeoning fist, however, her forearm lengthened into a double-edged weapon. The spider-bitch scuttled forward, a hungry gleam filling her eyes regardless of her food's hardware.

Nina, still crouched on the ground, jerked her right arm forward, piercing the she-spider through the chest. A scream filled the silence; Nina flew through the air again, struck the ground with a painful crunch and she howled in agony and rage. Kill, her mind screamed. Kill her before she gets even for that poke.

"Maybe it's too soon to panic," she panted aloud, her voice sounding gutteral and bizarre. She clutched at her throat with her left hand and poised the sword on her arm to fight more. Pain, exhaustion, and anxiety caught up with her. She had pushed it to the back of her mind, but she was scared; where was Dante? She had not seen him and surely he would have come by now. How would she get back without him if she killed the spider?

That had never even occured to her in the bloodthirsty moment.

She saw the spider woman stagger around, the same sticky stuff and what she thought was blood spewing from the gaping stab wound. Then the she-spider and Nina noticed another figure enroaching on the battle. They turned at the same time, seeing a spear of light lancing up toward the sky. Then absolutely nothing else. The universe opened up and spilled all the heat, light, and noise it could fit into that tiny other-space to capacity, past it, bursting everything into a million shattered mirror pieces.

* * *

As soon as Nina regained consciousness she heard herself still screaming. She thrashed violently, clamping her arms over her head, glad not to have speared her face with the sword. It wasn't there anymore so it was gone; that didn't enter her mind anyway. The light was too bright. It scared her so much. More than even Dante. And she hated being scared.

She felt two firm grasps clamp around her wrists and try to pull her arms apart. She started kicking. Someone very close cursed; she stopped at once.

"Are you finished making a complete stupid ass of yourself, or do you need a few more minutes?" a very angry Dante snarled, rubbing his thigh. Shit. She almost took my _balls_ off.

"Almost," Nina muttered. She let the world develop against the backdrop of white that had been printed on her retinas. Everything melted into place - a little end table, a window with the shades open.

She threw her arm over her eyes. "Oh, shit. The light..."

"That was pretty bright, wasn't it?" She heard him draw the shades, winced at the next words and their growing anger. "It's less than what you deserve."

"Don't start with me." Her gaze dropped to the floor.

Dante gripped her shoulder hard enough to bruise and forced her to sit up, and the sudden movement had her face changing to a peculiar shade of yellowish green. Still wasn't enough to keep her from swearing colorfully, "Get your damn hands off me! Jeez, that fucking hurts!"

He wanted to roar at her, get her to realize what a big fat mistake she had made by disobeying him. Maybe he wasn't coming on strong enough when he said, 'Don't help me.' Maybe threatening to kill her was not enough to actually dissuade her from being the priggish, layabout brat she had apparently grown up to be. Suddenly he remembered why he hated only-child kids. "_What. Did. I. Say?_"

"Not to come help you."

He saw her shrinking from his anger. That made him feel pretty good. But not so good. He was being sincere now; hadn't she known he wasn't being sincere before? He had never seen her actually show any kind of fear of him except for the very first moment they had met; he had realized soon after that it was fear of getting caught and punished, not fear of Dante himself, that had been what he had seen in her terrified, deer-in-the-headlights face that night in his store. But he was _roaring _now, and he'd been nice, right? He hoped she knew she had this coming. Even if the yelling scared him a little, too, 'cause he never yelled at anyone except when he was especially happy. He had yelled at Lady before; she had been getting in his way while he climbed the tower of Temen Ni Gru, trying to find his dumbass brother to stop him from catching stupid from that bald creepy guy with the face. He had yelled at her and he was fine; she yelled right back, because she believed in what she was doing. She had a real reason to be doing what she considered her job, and hers alone; it was her father trying to use the power of the Demon World, so it naturally fell to her to see him stopped, dead or alive. Lady was tough as nails. She was a real demon slayer, and she had a vendetta maybe even bigger than Dante's at that time.

But what did this kid do? She sacrificed more of herself to do - what? He had no idea what for. He didn't care. He was angry; her reason would be stupid no matter what excuse she had in store.

It didn't look like she did, so he went on:

"Yeah, that's what I thought, 'cause I was just thinking, you can't be that stupid. You can't be. Your mom's really smart, so I figured--"

"Don't talk about my mother! You don't know anything about my family, don't you think you do just 'cause you hit on her--"

"--okay, back to you: why did you do it? Why come after the demon when I said I'd take care of it!?" He seized her right hand, his eyes glazing with hate as he drew her attention to her hand. "And what's this? More? What did he say? He'd save your ass?" And she didn't wait for him. He was there in time to see them fighting, the way she'd been backed up against the darkness. He saw the bright flash too; but what pissed him off, no, what _hurt_ him was that she didn't wait for him to rescue her.

Nina looked up and gave him the sorriest look she could manage, what with her lower lip caught between her teeth. She shook her head heavily from side to side, then she blurt, "I let him so I could fight the demon myself so you wouldn't have to... so..." She choked as if she were eating dry crackers.

Dante tried to get angry again... but it had been all used up. He felt as dry as a well in that department. Instead, he felt resentful toward the demon - and anguished for Nina. He realized she was doing it to be a hero, and that was a big mistake. Only she hadn't known it. The stupid part was how she was trying to impress him, like she really cared about what he thought. The truth was, if she actually cared, she'd give him at least a little credit for his knowledge about the demon world and not do things that directly put her into frickin' jeopardy like, all the time.

"I'm not your child. I don't want to die. I know what I'm doing." Hollow words, he knew it. Go ahead and try to justify yourself, kid, I'm not buying it.

I wish you'd just trust me more. "You're hopeless," he sighed, annoyance filling in the gaps for the anger. He brutally raked his hair out of his eyes and folded his arms over his chest, tapping his foot and giving a long, deep-chested sigh that whistled between his clenched teeth.

Nina shook her head, burying her emotions beneath a blank stare, which still betrayed only a tiny fraction of the pain she felt. She was a failure. A complete and utter failure. No matter how she flipped it, she would never be anything worth more. She could not have done anything different; the fight was still smeared in her memory, so she could not even look back and worry over every little detail. It all bled together like a doused watercolor, with a red haze.

"Well," the white-haired man growled, "our eight-legged pest is dead. I found you on the floor, near the demon, which I finished off. And Alia was there too, knocked out."

"Alia?!" She lurched, wincing from her ripening bruises. "What was she doing there?! Why didn't I see her?" _Why didn't I save her?_

"She must have been her victim. I guess I didn't see her either." He took a breath. Anger lines disappeared, replaced by worry, then a seizure of surprise as he spun around so hard he almost knocked over a lamp. Alia was grasping for dear life to the door frame to the little bedroom, taking heavy, quick breaths for the amount of exertion. Her freckles stood out like pen dots on her white face.

"Stupid females," he snarled, reaching to collect Alia gently. "What are you doing out of bed? You!" He pinned Nina with a look that made her think twice about getting up to help him. He also looked horribly worried; Nina shared the sentiment. She hoped that Alia had not heard their little conversation about demons. Alia did not look capable of understanding any of it at that moment, but later, wouldn't she start asking questions?

It was way more important to worry about whether Alia was going to live long enough to ask. Nina sat impatiently for a long time, planting a pillow on her lap so when Dante came back, she looked comfortable but irate.

"Uh, you want a soda?" He massaged the back of his neck.

"What happened to her?" Nina said, a bizarrely flat, no-nonsense tone to her voice. "And you can tell me after you get me a soda."

While she sipped at a carbonated beverage, the devil hunter threw himself onto the bed beside her and tucked his hands behind his head while he stared at the ceiling and related the whole story. He wasn't wearing a shirt or a jacket; she guiltily stole a long look at his chest while she could, trying to double her efforts to ignore the spicy intoxication of his demonic musk mixing with human cologne.

"So, I found her laying there in the demon world. She was burning hot. I don't know how she got in there, 'cause she couldn't have been in the bathroom too. She must have gone in some other way... or maybe she was already there before I arrived."

"You mean when we arrived," she added politely.

He slashed her with an impatient glance. "Right. Anyway. Moving on. So, she was burning up like with some kind of fever, but it went away and she started to get cold when I was bringing her back through a demon gateway. After I got through, I found you on the floor next to the demon. It was dying, and I finished it off. Then I brought you both back here, to this hotel room."

"How'd you get--"

"Don't ask." He looked bemused. "I'm just glad I leave the window open a bit for fresh air. Didn't wanna explain you two to the bell boy or whatever that fella's called. But, when I put blankets to warm up Alia, she cried out like I hurt her. So I started to check her over for some injury I hadn't noticed on the way here. At that point, I guess it was safe to say she'd been through an ordeal. I just don't get--" He rubbed his temple with his thumb and muttered, "It's kind of weird for me to say this, but she's got bumps where there shouldn't be."

"What?" Nina's mind fumbled, dropped the idea, picked it up again. She turned to face him more, slurping the soda to give herself time to consider. "She's a... he?"

"No!" Dante snorted. His chest rippled as he tried not to laugh. "There's-- these things-- on her back, near her shoulders. Where your scapulas are. And they look really painful and... just plain unpleasant. So I put her down to sleep on her side, but she must have rolled over on her back. Must've been why she'd come out here, dazed or something."

Nina made a sound that fell somewhere between a disgusted and concerned sound. She wanted to see these bumps for herself, but she was not going to ask if she could start prodding her best friend's body. Instead, she looked away from Dante's rather inviting posture, staring at the closed window blinds. Her emotions were still fairly bruised from being yelled at. She had no room right now to give herself a pleasant distraction. But she felt his weight shift, then his hand on her shoulder, turning her around.

All of a sudden, she had tears bursting from her eyes like someone had turned on a faucet full blast. She blubbered stupidly for a second, tried to sip her soda and gave up. "This is... this is scaring me. All these weird things keep frickin' happening to me and now my best friend could be..." A hiccup. "And it's all my damn fault!"

Dante looked uncomfortable. He didn't like making chicks cry. So he looked at her sternly, lifted her chin with his thumb and said, "You can't blame yourself for every stupid thing that happens." He patted her cheek, which in its own right became a sort of caress. It shut her up, anyway. He cleared his throat and made a show of brushing his other hand through his hair to hide his blushing face. "Look, you don't have to be scared."

"You're going to kill me if I do anything else stupid about this demon thing," she pointed out; she was whimpering again. "I don't want to die. And if you had to, it's only if I hurt someone, right? Well, I won't hurt anyone, I promise!"

Dante pressed his lips together, then he said soothingly, "I know _you_ wouldn't hurt anyone, sweetheart. That's what you don't understand. Eventually, you won't be the one making that decision. Wanna know a secret?"

She was confused, but she nodded.

He leaned close and rubbed his hand through her hair, smiling. "I don't want you to die either. So keep that in mind if I have to yell at you again, 'kay?" Their foreheads touched and he looked right into her eyes, staring down the supernatural creature dwelling deep inside her. And saw Nina, too. Looking right back.

The half-devil got up before he got too comfortable touching her like that. She looked away when he glanced at her just once. His heart pounded fiercely, demanding him to go back to what he was doing. Give her something to make her trust him more. Make her believe that he wanted her to be safe. He gulped hard, feebly justifying any idea that would put him back on that bed and snuggle.

What the hell kind of thoughts were those?

"I'm going to go check on Alia," he said softly. "And you can, um, get up now if you feel better."

"What if I don't?" She flashed a grin.

"Then you can clean up after yourself if you fall over." He winked and whistled a tune as he sauntered back into the other room. His other little charge was still sick, but her eyes were open and she had not heard a word of what they had said. He'd put a blanket around her, careful of her strange protrusions. He had no idea what to make of this one, who stared distrustfully without saying a word.

"Quite a fall you had," Dante greeted in a distant, business-like manner.

Alia looked down at the pillow just beneath her eyes. Her hair was tangled and messy from her misadventure, and even more, she was growing paler. Her knuckles were gripping at the pillow beneath her head until they turned just a touch whiter than the rest of her fingers.

"Your back is all bruised up. Why haven't your parents taken you to see a doctor?"

"Stop it," she croaked, slowly lifting herself up in spite of the trembling all her limbs exhibited. "Stop pretending to care about me, demon."

The air in the room dropped to a temperature unbearably chilly. If Dante had anything to say, he was not sharing it yet. He just stared at her, his hands planted on his hips, his thumbs slipped through his belt loop holes, that lazily arrogant smile slowly sliding into place.

"So this is where all you oddballs come from? This town? Or do you all come here once in awhile and throw a reunion party?" He slapped himself on the forehead. "What a drag. Man, I should have brought Lady and Trish here ages ago. If I'd known what a happenin' place this was..."

Alia sank into the bed again, her eyes falling shut. "Demons... always talking..."

"Don't compare to them!" Unexpectedly annoyed, he yanked a little stool from beside the door and made his rear end at home upon it. "Give me one good reason not to start yelling at you, too. I'm just dyin' to know what you were doing there!"

She was courageous to try and backtalk what she thought was a full-fledged demon, but Dante was not falling for her frail and weak image either. "I don't have to explain myself to you, not like Nina does."

"Nina doesn't explain jack, actually. I usually have to hog-tie her and threaten her with unspeakable attitude torture before I get anything out of her. But I'm not talking about her, I'm talking about you. And I'm starting to lose my already frayed patience here." He poked an accusatory finger at her. "Just what and who the hell are you?"

Alia was silent, except for her labored breathing. Then she answered, "I hunt demons, too." Her eyes lost their focus on him, as if she were thinking deeply, but as soon as Dante began to sense something a little more than her usual weirdness, her body went into fits of pain. She curled into a fetal ball, swallowing her cries until she was too full of her pain. She wept with big, heavy exhausted breaths. He abandoned his post to get her some water. When he came back, she was still laying still but she was quiet, shaking weakly. She sipped some water from the full glass before it was too much. Her small body gave a twist and she buried her face into her pillow to scream.

Before Dante could even do anything more, Nina was already in the doorway wondering what was going on. She wrapped both her arms around herself, as if to ward off whatever was making her best friend ill. That was enough of an excuse for Dante to ignore it for now. She was a concerned friend, and she couldn't have been that hurt to begin with. Instead, he left off the tough guy interrogation and became something a little less familiar: caregiver, doctor. Whatever you called it.

He pounced on Alia and made her hold still so he could pull away her blanket and pull up her shirt. Her tiny body wriggled, so he sat on her butt to keep her still. Agony rippled through her, through his legs where he was touching her.

"What's happening?!" Nina demanded, storming over to them, her arms still locked protectively around herself. Then her eyes fell; her eyes filled with brittle tears. Dante couldn't look at her now; crying chicks were something he couldn't help every time something happened.

"Don't cry," he snapped, "don't make her any more upset."

Alia whimpered.

The ugly marks on her back had grown to nearly double the size since Dante checked on them last. And weirdest of all, they were moving. Beneath the skin, shifting tissue and discolored weirdness were struggling to burst out of the skin. Already, there were signs of scar tissue and places where her thin had thinned and cracked. Scabs covered some of them, but even they were reopening and cracking again. Blood and pus seeped, dribbling between her shoulderblades and down the track of her spine. He looked at them with a coldly serious expression, his hands hovering by his sides, indecisive.

"Get them out," Nina supplied, her voice wavering with a mixture of nausea and hysteria. "Get them the hell out of her!" She hopped on her feet a little.

"Do you think you can help me without falling over in a dead faint?"

It took a moment for her to realize what he really said. She looked at her friend, helpless against the strange affliction hurting her best friend. Gulped. Nodded.

"Hurry up and go get my stuff in the other room. My jacket and stuff."

She rushed off, managing to unlock her arms and go do so. When she came back, dragging his sword in the guitar case and his jacket, he rolled his eyes before he ordered her to find his switch blade in his pocket. Then he said to dig around in the guitar case for a first aid kit. He personally never had any use for the stuff, but he had it in case he bumped into folks who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. She successfully produced the thick plastic container with a big red cross sticker on it. She gingerly planted it on the bed next to Dante and Alia.

"What are you going to do?" Her eyes were as huge as saucers; Dante didn't blame her. Alia was still shivering, and now she was losing consciousness and her breathing was weak and fast. Nina wasn't going to like what he was about to do either.

"Bandages and whatnot." He unwrapped a bunch of gauze, probably more than he needed, but he would not know until he started the next step. He placed all the gauze he could around her shoulders. The splitting of her skin was happening even more; suddenly he jerked back and wiped blood from his cheek, his eyes turning a similar shade of red. "Damn, I might not need to-"

Alia writhed.

There was a tremendous ripping noise, like cloth. Only worse, because it sounded wet and crunching at the same time. Nina leapt backward, fell over the guitar case, landing on the floor. Her eyes shut and she curled defensively.

Dante felt a splatter of wet, hot fluid soak his chest and face, and his arms, which he used to shield himself. The poor girl underneath him shrieked with an unleashing of agony so fierce that she sounded like a wounded animal. Her body bucked and shivered, and then became relatively still.

Nina sat up slowly, peering reluctantly over the edge of the bed. Dante lowered his arms. Still silently beholding the last thing he really expected to see.

Feathery wings.


	11. More Lies

Author's Notes: Hey. Sorry for the long wait. Um. I actually had two differing versions of this chapter floating around on my computer. In the confusion which is my life (and it is a hectic life), I've got a little lost in my writing. Um. This chapter is well over the usual word limit I set for myself, but it should be enough for everyone to read. I'm not dead yet, I swear.

---

Chapter 11 - More Lies

Dante washed the blood from the wings uncased from Alia's body. She was still resting, but she was awake now, looking healthier than ever. Whatever had just happened, he felt a tissue-deep ache as if he'd run up the entire height of Temen Ni Gru. His sides ached and his legs refused to hold him steadily. He had seen lots of blood and gore before, so rattled nerves could not account for the unease he felt around Alia. She was definitely not some kind of demon. Many demon took the guise of angels. Until Alia, he thought they did not exist. Messengers of God were things to comfort humans when the night was overrun with monsters. It was Dante Sparda who was an angel to some people for coming along to exterminate them. His trademark silhouette brought comfort to humans who knew about him and his demon-slaying services.

But angels were something entirely out of his league. Maybe Mikuru had been telling him the truth the whole time. She really had exchanged her eyesight for the power to truly See.

He looked in on the girls, who were sitting and talking as if they had known each other's secrets all their lives. Dante's lips curved into a scowl as he leaned his elbow on the doorjam. "Ladies? Care to enlighten me?"

Alia looked over with a weak smile and waved. "Thank you, Dante Sparda."

"Apparently if we hadn't helped her, she would have died," Nina offered.

"But, what are you?" Exasperated, he walked over and began to brush a hand over Alia's left wing, which jerked and nearly flexed so hard and suddenly it narrowly missed Dante's face. "Are you some kind of... extraterrestrial or something?"

Such a pointed question made the girl's wings curl uncomfortably. Cringing from his words as if they illuminated the fact that she was a freak of nature, or something completely outside of human reckoning. Nina could understand how she felt. The way she held herself as if nothing around her could be trusted the same way told Nina that Alia had been dealing with this very real fear for ages now.

"It's okay. I want to know the truth too, but I'm not mad. I understand if you've had to lie about some stuff. I've done it too." Nina was finding it hard to divulge all of this. "I'm... possessed. Just a teenage girl with a very weird problem... and I was afraid you were going to kill me too."

"Oh... is that what you think?" Alia smiled sadly, looking at Nina with a small sigh. "No. I... I only kill monsters. You're not a monster at all. As for me... I don't know. I don't really know at all. Except what a man told me a long time ago." And Alia swallowed and bunched the blankets up around her legs and she told them only about what had happened to her parents, what she was able to see when she looked at certain people, and the man she saw that fated day after her parents had died. She explained the magic she had been using to destroy the monsters she found, but after she was finished, Dante was picking thoughts apart by himself as he gazed out the window.

"Could've been him," he murmured.

"What's that?" Nina asked, shifting to look at him.

"Just a perpetual thorn in my ass, that's all. I wonder why he hadn't killed you at the time, though. All he was concerned about was getting power."

"Maybe he saw a use for me," Alia answered for him intuitively. "People like that don't just kill for any reason. I thought he was going to kill me too until he started talking. But nothing he said explained to me what this power I had was. So even if I had an answer, I still wouldn't understand. Am I an angel...? Or a devil in the guise of something much holier?" She shivered. "I don't have any answers like that. But I notice whenever I'm around you, I feel different... like you're monsters but I know you're not. But... Adam's..."

"You can call me Dante now," he interrupted after awhile, breaking free of his memories and sliding his hand through his white hair. "And I think you ARE an angel but the only person who could tell for sure doesn't like me to just drop in unnoticed. Especially after what happened last time?"

"Isn't there anyone else? Can't we just go to a church or something?" Nina asked, going back to combing and wiping blood and gore from Alia's wings. They were pretty wings, an off-shade of white. A tainted gray. "I mean, not that I expect anything magical to happen in there..."

"It'll be okay," Alia said. "For now, you... you should go home.... and make sure your parents aren't worried about you."

Nina stood up, her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth, unable to argue with that. She really, really wanted to go home. The warmth of her bed called to her, the tinny sound of her little TV as she played on her PlayStation. Normal stuff. Her body ached from exhaustion and from whatever else was happening whenever she was around Alia. She stood up gently and glanced at Dante sidelong, suddenly distrustful. "What are you going to do with Alia?"

"Drive her home, duh." His smile reassured her more than anything she could have hoped for. "Should I steal a blanket from here so she can walk outside without getting any creeped out looks?" She grazed his hand when she reached for her coat. "Don't tell me you haven't thought that through yet!"

In the end they managed to get her carefully into the car, cranking the heat plenty so she wouldn't freeze. The drive was uneventful. Nina was in back, keeping her best friend warm while they watched the snow-covered trees float on by. Dante's driving was rather sedate. Maybe he was giving himself time to think about what had transpired. After all, he was the most experienced when it came to the supernatural. He had never experienced anything he would call holy. Only the raw, pounding, heart-racing hatred of the Demon world. All he knew was he was the spawn of Sparda, a powerful figurehead in the devil community. Not even that. He had never once, in all his adventures (okay, so he was still young and teenagerish, so what?) - never had he encountered anything angelic or heavenly. Not in the Biblical sense, not in the Judaic sense. Not in any sense at all.

Looking in the rear view at the winged girl in the backseat of his shitty rental car, his tongue working against the back of his front teeth. Angels. Devils. Maybe he was thinking too small and this world is a hell of a lot bigger than it really was. He couldn't look around now without thinking: was someone else watching him besides the countless hateful eyes of devils who wanted him dead?

-----

Nina slid into her bed after Dante had waved good-bye at the door. She explained to her mom that she went to stay after school to work on a paper since her computer crashed the other day, making her lose all the work she had before. It made sense. The lie made her wish it was true though because she really wanted to do well on the paper for the sake of her grades.

She reasoned by herself that the reason why no one knew what happened to the bathroom was because only people with demonic blood could enter a seperate dimension when they go through the bathroom door. The real, original bathroom had remained untouched. Sometimes humans could wander into the room. Maybe that's how she got her victims. Maybe it was like leaving the door unlocked, inviting people to walk into the demon's world... where the freak could feast undisturbed.

Whatever. How could Nina think of what demons do to their prey when she was about to go to bed? Her stomach growled as she lay awake, her exertions from the day bringing her toward an urgent need to replenish. Refuel. But she was too tired to even get back up from the blankets. She closed her eyes. Dante. She owed him an apology. More than just the feeble ones she dredged up today.

------

Dante took Alia to her house, but this was when he had to stop and go somewhere else. There were no police vehicles sitting outside. In fact, there was nothing going on at all. Dante had gone out of his way to avoid any busy streets. Whatever happened at the motel would eventually come back to haunt him and once again, he'd have to direct the ire of the law toward Lady - who would take everything he owned and make it up to Big Brother in cold hard cash. Severely tired, Dante rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and pulled into Alia's driveway. She was bundled still in the backseat, her eyes faintly lit with an unnatural glow that he was just now beginning to notice.

"Listen, uh," he sat there drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He twisted around to look at her. "If you want, I know places where you could stay safely, and not have to worry about yourself. I doubt you can stand being around me all day, and I know people... this woman I know, she could help." He wet his lips with a flick of his tongue. "Mikuru. She... she knows about holy stuff more than me. Goes without saying. Do you want to stay here... or do you want to learn more about yourself?"

This was a huge act of generosity on his part, offering her one of his sacred sources of information. But it was better than watching her flounder around in a world where everyone else would consider her a freak or a heretic. Her wings would mark her as a freak for sure. He'd rather spare her that indignity and pain than watch her go down in disgrace. He kept his eyes locked on her face until she turned to look at him slowly, her freckles not in the least faded. Her pale blue eyes gave his earnest expession a once over.

"You're so strange," she said quietly. "A devil offering to help me... it's unheard of. Even if you're just a half-demon, everything about you makes me want to kill you all the same. But I can't bring myself to try."

"Funny. I don't exactly return the sentiment there - the part about wanting me to die. A lot."

Alia smiled. "You are a devil hunter. I can't really trust you, though. That's just part of who I am. But I will accept your offer of help... because I can't honestly bring myself to go to school tomorrow looking as I do now. I don't even know if my wings can disappear yet. But for now, I think I should leave mankind alone for awhile."

"Honestly?" Dante grinned. "It'd be nice to have someone on my side for once. But I understand how it is. So, you want to stay here tonight or go somewhere else? I got gas money and time."

"I want to stay," Alia said after a decidedly long amount of thinking. "I want to stay and make sure that Nina finds her place here too. Even if it means that her demon self becomes her true self..."

"Don't say that. I won't let that happen."

"How can you sound so sure? How can you stop her blood from ruling her?"

"I just know; I have an intimate knowledge of that sort of thing."

She looked away again and shook her head, but there was a ghost of a smile on her thin lips. "I know... you are the son of Sparda... The one son that didn't corrupt." She reached for the door to open it to vacate the car, standing unsteadily in the faint dusting of snow. She hobbled up the drive to her front door, the unnatural bunching around her back barely hiding her wings. She turned at the top step, her hand on the door, feeling the need to make sure he was still there. He opened his window and waved, letting his arm hang along the door because the cold didn't quite bother him enough.

"I'll be back to check on you too." The snowy haired devil hunter smirked, but inside he was jokingly lamenting, _Great. Now I'm babysitting two girls. Guh._

-----

"Hey, babe."

"Dante. You haven't called in a couple days now. What the hell is taking you so long? Is she safe for the general public or what?"

"I have to stay awhile more. I trust you've got things under control there, right? So I've got nothin' to worry about."

"Sure, I mean... I'm running a business that's not even mine and all. You seriously owe me, Dante. Hurry up and get her safe or..."

"Ow. Harsh. Does Nina know you feel that way about her?"

"You know what I mean. I mean... just... listen."

"I'm coming back, Lady. Jeez. I just... things got a bit complicated." In detail, he related the events leading up to discovering an angel in the midst of the townsfolk. "At least, that's what I think. She seems to have this innate hatred for devils."

"And?"

"What do you mean AND? I can't just leave it alone. Even if heaven or something exists, then it's probably just some extension of the Demon World anyway."

"Dante... please tell me you're not on some journey finding your faith or something. Are you? That's great and all, but you still have bills to pay and you're not earning a dime staying out there gassing up your rental car and breaking shit."

"Whoo! Sorry I called. Listen, I'll be back before the end of the week. I just have a couple more things."

"Seriously. I've given you plenty of breaks before. The first being what you are. Don't let me down. I got my own lady stuff I want to see to, y'know."

"Say no more. I'll give you a buzz before I get home, all right? Love ya."

"Asshole."

------

Nina convinced herself and her mother that she was too ill to go to school. However, it was hard to convince her to go outside to get the mail when Dante was waiting out there for her to jump in. Lying to her mother was something she despised doing, considering the other stuff she had done. Like, y'know, running away and lying about Dante being Adam and... all kinds of things. Nina ran outside once she heard her mother vanish into the upstairs bedroom to reorganize the closet - a project she had been putting off for some time now. It would leave her busy for hours. Once Nina had assured her mother she needed nothing but restful quiet alone, Nina snuck downstairs and leapt into the car outside in the back seat. Dante pulled away into the street, turning up the music to blast once they were out of earshot of the house. He was driving fast as usual. Nina smiled, somehow exhilirated by getting out of the house without needing to go to school. God, school felt so... damn unimportant.

She was something else. It felt different since yesterday, since she had met this guy. It was all about a damn guy, wasn't it? Nina propped her arm up on the window and leaned her head up there, eyes lidded as Dante drove down to Alia's house. He stopped and honked. The door swung open, and Alia hopped down the steps, wearing an enormous puffy jacket that was obviously changed to hide her wings. Or maybe she actually figured out a way to make them vanish, allowing her to once again "fit in". Whatever the reason, she looked much healthier, kind of a rosy glow to her cheeks. Dante felt an unexpected surge of relief. Her puffy eyes had been rather red and veiny, unhealthy. There was still the unsettling smell of blood on his clothes since he hadn't changed since yesterday. He hadn't been to wash his clothes since a couple days ago. He only brought enough changes for a week so he could wash them whenever he needed to. Then again, he probably never got around to it because he had been a little caught up in work.

Alia climbed into the back seat, her hands clutching the doorhandle; his eyes fixed back to the road and he said, "Okay? So, you want to see Mikuru now? The drive's pretty far."

"I am prepared. It is not as if I have an obligations to be anywhere... unless you think I ought to go to my classes today." She offered a wry thin smile, showing her new outlook concerning school and mortal life.

A bag of fast food dropped into Nina's lap. A second landed near Alia, before the car went driving forward. He wasn't supposed to be bringing this piece of shit so far away from its long-lost home, but he needed to get things straightened out with Alia before he could fully continue his business with Nina. Hopefully it'll be done. And Lady would stop being grumpy.

Bringing the car to its limits, Dante opened her up once they reached the highway interstate. The girls ate, talking energetically since it appeared even the knowledge of their respective states didn't bother them at all. Nina was still looking away from Dante sometimes, refusing to meet his eyes in the rearview. Well, whatever. He noticed she looked slightly older, a little more tired. He felt he maybe should ask how she was doing, but she would probably think his concern was rather insincere.

Driving wore a lot of Dante's patience down, since he could never drive as fast as he really wanted to, especially on this particularly busy highway. Except today it looked as if very few cars had any reason to be traversing along it. The peculiar change of events only meant Dante could drive just a tad faster. As he gased a little bit more, Alia sank back into her seat, looking anxiously from Dante to Nina.

"It's okay," Nina assured her. "If we crash, it'll be Dante who goes through the windshield." She patted her seatbelt, firmly secured, to illustrate how she was not going to fly through with Dante.

"Um, that is fine..." Alia moved her jacket, sliding it away from her and bunching it up down near her legs in the smallish backseat. Her wings stretched only a little bit, before they tucked against her body. The movements all looked very awkward and unfamiliar to her. Suddenly she looked at Dante and smiled, a look of curiousity blossoming in her clear eyes.

"Dante, do you have wings too?"

Nina looked up sharply at Dante. "EH?" She tried to imagine Dante with big fluffy angel wings and had to pinch her leg to stop from laughing. That's probably not what Alia had in mind. She went quiet, looking at the back of Dante's head.

The devil hunter half-demon smiled. "I guess you could say so. But I don't like to use it too often. It tends to make people nervous, y'know."

"It?" Alia folded her hands on her lap, playing with her mittens.

"I don't know what to call it. I've been calling it Deviltrigger, mostly because it seems only to be triggered by owning demons in battle."

Nina's heart skipped a beat. This is something she hadn't quite known about Dante before. A Deviltrigger? "What's it like?"

Dante appeared to clam up, since suddenly he was discussing intimate details about his heritage. "It's kicking the shit out of everything, made easy."

"Tch." The response he gave hinted that was ALL he was going to say about the subject. She wondered how close she had come to such a thing, or if she was even capable of it. Maybe it was something only a really powerful half-demon like Dante Sparda could do. She munched on her food for awhile longer.

Alia looked out the car window, her rosy face thoughtful and... somewhat scared, Nina noticed. _Scared because of what she didn't know about herself, maybe. I bet Alia doesn't even know if angels exist. What if she is just some kind of special demon, a "good" one? If Dante can be interested in the good of humanity, then why can't Alia?_

Committed to thinking and unable to talk since Dante had turned up his music again, she closed her eyes. It may have been the mere movement of the car, but she almost felt like she was falling... and it was rather exhilirating. She liked it. Then she heard a familiar voice, the gutteral cackle of a demon speaking to her. She was beginning to wonder if the voice would say anything or just keep laughing. It was unnerving, but she was no longer as scared of it.

"What do you want?" she said out loud.

"Huh?" Dante cocked his head.

"Oh - not you - nothing..."

"You fell asleep for like fifteen minutes. We're almost to the place Mikuru would meet us." Superior concern flashed through his eyes.

"Oh. Sorry." Nina rubbed her eyes, exhausted. What the hell was up in her head now, making her not rest? She groaned as they pulled into a narrow road and along it, through snow-cloaked trees and empty wood for about half a mile. He was driving slowly, which was a relief, because Nina did not do well with long car rides. Alia was looking anxiously at Nina.

"What is it?"

"I just realized something. If you both are demons, then I am quite alone. This would be a perfect place to eliminate a potential enemy." Alia wrung her hands. "I..."

The girls stared at each other. Nina was struck with a rather sharp pain, somewhere in the vicinity of her heart. She knew she wasn't trustworthy. She knew WHY, anyway. Hell, she didn't even trust herself. But this was a childhood friend saying she thought Nina was going to kill her.

"Alia! I'm new at this too! I'm not going to take you out into the woods, pop you in the face, and bury you behind a big old oak, okay? I need to know about me, you, the world at large. Every time I look in the mirror these days, it's like I see someone I don't even know. I'm not sure I was even the same person I was since yesterday. All I wanted for days now was to stay home, go to school, come home, pretend to do my homework, and play video games. I want to say hi to my mom and bully my dad and--" Nina was getting worked up.

Dante glanced at her in the mirror. Smiled faintly. "Hey, listen. It's not you. You both should be scared, but definitely not each other. Especially not me. You helped us out a couple of times, so that puts you on my good side, got it? So quit your belly-aching. We're here." The car rolled to a stop beside a large log cabin. There weren't other vehicles in the overgrown driveway, but there were lights on in the house and the door was open despite the colder clime. It spoke of a level of comfort a person had to have to leave the door open in the middle of nowhere.

"Ta-da!" Dante sauntered up to the front door with the girls, his jacket open, letting the sharp cold air bite through his skin. The pain distracted him from looking at Nina overmuch; she looked worn thin suddenly, like she had gone through a world war and fought it alone. Haggard-faced, she seemed to shudder against the chill just like any normal human. He remembered again; just because she was a human with special powers, at the end of the day when she turned off the light to sleep, she was still human. He wanted to start apologizing for not giving her a longer break. He needed to get her out of here, but... wasn't that just being selfish? She wanted to be with her family. She wanted to be Nina the student again.

Not be with Dante.

She was definitely not the same girl he had tied up and dragged home to observe for dangerous demon-possessed behavior.

"You have arrived on time, Dante son of Sparda." Mikuru was waiting just inside. On a low table carved from the trunk of an ancient tree, there was hot tea still warm and waiting. Nina and Alia stood close together, though there was still a tangible tension between the girls. It was simply out of a sense of self-preservation that they remained elbow-to-elbow. But they relaxed at the homy atmosphere a fraction. Dante swept his jacket back to plant his hands firmly on his hips, watching the robed woman move around with her eyes lightly closed, long hair swept into a neat little bun. Her bangs fell around her face.

It prickled his skin to be near her. It wasn't uncomfortable like before, but it was definitely interesting. A heady aroma from burning incense filled the room - strongly of pine, filling the cabin with a heat like summer. It was unknown how the heat stayed in the house when the front door was open. Magic, maybe.

"So have you thought about what I told you before?" Mikuru sat down. "Ah, it matters little now. I can see you have developed a stronger bond with her. Do you see how she is not what you thought?"

Dante flushed, his feathers faintly ruffled just by talking to her. "Y-Yeah, I get it now. But anyway. Question, just while we're already here and all: is Alia related to celestial beings?"

"Alia. What a beautiful name." Mikuru helped herself to tea. Nina shivered. "You may close the door." While Nina did so with some embarassment, Alia stared at Mikuru without revealing the reason for her distrust.

"Are you sure this is safe?"

"Of course it is safe, child. I cannot See you clearly. Stand nearer to me."

Dante's eyes sharpened to pinpoints of blue ice, moving his fingertips along his back to Ebony and Ivory. Mikuru dropped the cup of tea. It shattered, and the room shuddered with an incongruous amount of thunder.

"Fools. Now you will know vengeance." Mikuru, or the demon that stood in her place, rose from the bed, heavy black wings rising from her back. The membranes issued a toxic cloud that filled the whole room. Dante smothered his mouth with one hand and leapt for the girls, who were choking and coughing. The demon spoke, "You will all die... and I shall become a powerful demon reigning in Hell for being the hand that wielded the executioner's axe. Dante and his little lover, the seed of some pathetic lonely-hearted whelp. You, too, will perish. And you," she turned her eyes on Alia, the wings beating once in the darkspace that the cabin had become, "you will fall into nothingness with this knowledge: you are an instrument of heaven indeed... but no more use will be had of you."

"You don't ever stop talking, do you?" Dante had procured a weapon Nina had only seen once before, in that cupboard at his house. It was a pair of swords, one blue, one red. They had heads on the hilts and for a moment, she could have sworn she saw their mouths moving. The fog was choking her, and Alia was bent over double with coughing. Her hands were glowing with a faint white glow, which she used to finally cover her mouth, maybe to purify the air before it entered her lungs. Dante swung the blades in a fiery whirlwind, so suddenly and so quickly that all she could see was the color of fire and the blue of the other sword. The maelstrom it created blew the toxic cloud into the shadows around them. The floor was rock solid, uneven. It reminded Nina of the spiderwoman's place at school.

"What about me?" Nina muttered, weaponless, as Alia opened her own wings, the feathers issuing a bright, almost-golden glow that stung her eyes more than it probably should. Her heart was pounding... and an achingly familiar thrumming entered her ears. Her body warmed up immediately. "Can I call it forth?" She reached toward her shirtsleeve to roll it up. It wasn't going to hurt too bad... maybe. Had to do it soon...

Instinctively she felt the sharpness of the sword penetrating from within her skin. She gasped hoarsely, pain making her shiver, looking up anxiously, realizing the demon was moving - directly toward them, the wings closing to become sharp, bladed appendages with intent on ripping her insides right out. She ducked, just as the movement jarred her weapon from its place inside her. Alia shrieked in pain. Nina swore and swung the dark blade she was now wielding in both hands.

The dark space seemed only as large as the cabin itself; she leapt toward the demon with the sword. Dante was watching her - he wasn't going to save her again, she realized, her heart in her mouth, while she swung at the demon's head. Unexpectedly, the beast's serpentine face was tougher than it looked - there was a jarring, ripping sound, a hot splash of blood. She fell to the ground, rolling again. Her eyes stung with a second issuing of poison and the next breath she took made her nearly vomit.

"D-Dante!!"

"On it!" He threw his body in front of her. His arms were a demonic blur as the twin-blades spun again, wind-milling the noxious cloud away. He danced to the side and jumped - he sailed into the air gracefully, his legs bunched underneath him while his jacket opened like wings. And then he did something she could hardly have believed if she didn't know any better. He jumped - again - on some kind of red glowing pattern, with a sound like an old camera's bulb exploding to take a photograph. He landed on the prominent left wing, and started hacking left-right-left-right into the meat near the shoulder. Blood and screams issued forth.

"Get the chest!" Alia cried out, pushing her hands out toward the demon. A shot of light exploded from her palms - it flew unerringly into the demon's chest like a bullet. When it connected, it seemed to sear and scorch on contact. The smell of burning demonflesh was never good for anyone's appetite, Nina decided, her sword switching hands as she raced forward. Her legs were somehow so much stronger than she remembered. She nailed the beast with a straight thrust to the chest - with a rewarding howl of purest rage and agony.

"Nina!" Dante shouted, jumping free of a set of snapping jaws. "Watch out--"

"AAH!!" Her left side was raked by talons and she saw white. Her mind refused to acknowledge the urgency of movement and escape. More importantly, her sword was still lodged firmly in its chest. She fell backward, allowing the weapon to be pulled free. Dante was there in an instant - scooped her from the floor and deposited her by Alia. Then he was warding off the smoke again.

"Is it dead yet?" she groaned, head lolling back. "No... I didn't want to be rescued _again_..."

"Nina... Hold still, I can fix this..." Alia rested her hands on her. The glow from her hands seemed to change - from a honed weapon to something more gentle. It filled her with a calming glow and a sense of heartache that was indescribable... she closed her eyes, biting her lip as it hurt and felt okay at the same time. Somehow she felt wretched all the same. But the pain in her body was gone. She regained her feet slowly, eyeballing the dragon that was not going down even as Dante warded off each blow. He was sweating, breathing hard, but the smile on his face was fueled by a rare madness. He was enjoying himself... alone, challenged by nothing but his own inner demons. Could nothing ever stop him?

"I wasn't really helping, was I?"

"He's going to get tired eventually," Alia reminded her.

"I don't know about that." She lifted her weapon and looked at it, wondering what good it would do compared to Dante's unfaltering will. "He works alone."

"Then butt in! If you get hurt, I can heal you again. Nina, are you going to be okay? You look very unhappy."

"I don't think your brand of healing agrees with me." Sniffling, Nina wiped her eyes. "Guh! Why am I so damn depressed! Okay, game face, Nina!" She threw herself into the battle, calling out to Dante beforehand so he was aware that she was fine and ready to help.

"I'd really like a big kaboom again," Nina shouted to Alia, who opened her wings, filled her hands with that same refined, powerful energy. She WAS an instrument of heaven - so this was definitely her calling!

As soon as the dragon opened its wings to unleash the toxins, Dante deflected it, and the demon's chest was also exposed. The ball of light connected again. Alia staggered, her wings looking lackluster and drab. Nina had no time to consider that her friend was becoming exhausted. The battle wore on, her own strength thinning; Dante seemed inexhaustable by contrast. She saw him struck with talons, saw his blood - her heart skipping a beat, her feet staggering. She narrowly missed getting knocked to her feet by swinging tail. She had slashed and thrusted the demonic sword so many times, her arms felt leaden and numb, her fingertips beyond her sense's perception. The trio's system failed once Dante had hacked off both wings and the beast's tactics changed. The two-legged creature fell to its chest, its body covered in blood and smooth, solid scales. Its head was covered in a crown of horns, with a center gem in its faceplate that glittered faintly with each breath it took.

"I will... destroy you all! Fools! AGH!" Nina had jumped on its neck - and now she was pushing all her weight with her arms and hands against the sword point she had firmly planted just behind the crest of horns. Dante stood now on its serpent nose, filling the glowing gem with bullets - each bright bullet making a colorful spark, a constantly glittering fireworks show. Nina fell off, exhausted, just a short while after the demon began to shudder in its death throes, clutching her only defense in a death grip.

White-faced, Nina sat down on the floor, which slowly transmogrified into a snow-covered forest floor. She shivered inside her veil of feathers, looking up at the darkening sky.

"D-D-Dante."

The demon was gone, vanished, leaving behind no evidence that it was there except for a collection off red glowing balls. Dante stepped through them and they sank into his body for safe-keeping. The cabin never seemed to exist, only an empty lot with an overgrown drive. It was all a vast kind of illusion. Dante was steaming in the cold; Nina likewise. Alia was sniffling into a tissue with a runny nose. He ran his hands over his face and groaned.

"What the hell, man. Demons just keep throwing themselves at me and I never get paid for THOSE." He helped Nina to her feet, noting that the sword was also gone. He held her close. She buried her face in his chest for warmth. "Haa~ Cold nose. Jeez. All right. Well, now you know what you are, Alia." His ire was not directed at her, but he could not help sounding annoyed. "Let's get the damn car started."

"I wanna go home," Nina iterated plaintively.

He deposited her in the passenger side, returned to his side, while Alia clicked her seatbelt on.

"I had a feeling something bad was up here... I'm sorry I thought it was your inentions, Dante." Alia picked at a hangnail, looking sidelong at him. "Um..."

"It's fine." He gripped the steering wheel and stared forward while the car warmed up.

--------

There was a police vehicle parked in the driveway of Nina's house. The three said nothing as they drove right on by.

"What if something happened to my mom?" Nina suddenly said, starting a little, but Alia patted her shoulder from the seat behind her.

"Your mother is fine. In fact... Nina, I... I do believe maybe leaving the house would be safer. Demons will be coming after you more frequently... and it would endanger her if you stayed."

"If it hasn't already."

"She is fine, Nina. If you want... I will keep an eye on her for you, while you find a new place to live."

"This sucks." The half-demon girl leaned her head back and cried. Letting go of her self. Letting go of her parents. She still felt as though she needed them, which is almost worse than knowing she did. She wanted to need them, wanted to be normal. She was afraid of what she would become if she did not. She wasn't ashamed of wanting to stay a kid and play the little human girl.

"Nina..." Out of nowhere, Dante said something she was also afraid of. "You can live with me. Er, me and Lady."

"Lady doesn't live with you."

"She technically does... when she doesn't want to shoot my dick off. Then she goes to her apartment and hates me from a safer distance. Heh."

Nina, her face reddened from crying, laughed a little.

Score! Relief washed the sour mood away; she was going to be okay as long as he could continue to keep his eyes on her and make sure no more monsters tried to take her out when he wasn't looking. "So you really don't mind? There's really not that much room at my place... I mean, it may just be temporary. So you can find a job somewhere and hold your own. Exciting, right?"

The subject of finding a job, knowing full well how nearly impossible that would be since she had no references, could never use her real name again, never do anything "normally" again, made Nina withdraw a little bit toward silent thoughtfulness. How could she just do all that? There wasn't any damn handbook telling her how. His eyes followed the line of her jaw, noticed the muscles bunching, unbunching. He almost wanted to reach out and pat her to get her to quit it.

But he couldn't dare touch her. That was almost a... a taboo. He admitted to himself in some far corner of his mind, where it wasn't so cluttered by thoughts of battle, chicks, weapon magazines and pizza, that he was getting way in over his head with her. She was a teenager. He'd gone to school once, he had parents. And just like that, he lost them. What was left of his family had become a psychotic mess obsessed with reclaiming the power of their demonic father.

Dante felt he was more qualified than anyone else to show her how to live life even though it had fucked her over.

----

"Are you serious!?" Lady's eyes looked like they would have set Dante's head on fire if they could. She looked over the three as they gathered in front of the door inside Dante's flat. Nina had brought nothing with her but herself, and Alia looked as if she no longer needed the usual commodities of mortals. She could not believe that those were actual wings on her back at first, but her devil hunting sensitibilities alerted her that she should probably just believe they were real and move on to more important things. Oh, right.

Like how in the hell they were all going to live in this house if there were really only two bedrooms and one bathroom and...

And no way that Dante had the money he promised to come up with, to pay for the utilities and precious, precious time Lady had taken to see the place was looked after.

"Dante, do you really expect me to-- Are you pouting?"

"She really has no place else to go. And she's cute! And she came with a friend!"

"Take your girl fetishes back to the strip club, Dante. And while you're at it, maybe you could strip there too and get the goddamn money you still owe me!" Blushing with anger, the female devil hunter threw a lined notebook at him. "There you go. More debt. Now before you keep begging me, tell me how taking these two on is actually going to keep us from going under?!"

"I... I have relatives," Nina murmured, clenching her hands behind her back. Nina looked unhappy to see her, to say the least. Alia was hiding behind Nina, who stepped out from behind Dante. "And - maybe - they wouldn't mind if I asked them to help me out..."

Lady reached her hands toward her hair and raked her fingers roughly through it, slowly, as if pulling at her scalp would tear the frustration out of her head. She sat down on the sofa, crossed her legs and bounced her foot impatiently. "Well. Maybe it's not so useless. Dante wouldn't be such a slob if he had even more girls around to push him into being more presentable. Damned juvenile!"

"H-Hey. Alright, enough." He walked over and reached into his back pocket. He threw a wad of cash down. "That's for the school job. Should get us started."

She eyeballed the amount. Alia and Nina hovered near the pool table, Nina scowling down at her shoelaces. Was she just not welcome ANYWHERE?

"Fine," Lady conceded. "But I have another job for you. And it doesn't require too much driving, since you all looked beat. It's tomorrow, at 3-o'-clock. I'd prefer you not be late."

"Details?" Dante folded his arms and listened to her report; his eyes quickly drooped with boredom. Another ghost investigation, some kind of innercity haunting in a house built fourty-seven years ago. Whatever. Maybe a little thing like that would give him some time to relax, even if he didn't take such things seriously unless it reeked of demonic involvement. He wouldn't bring the girls, though; a day of rest would bring them some peace of mind. And maybe Lady would get off her rag long enough to make them feel a little more welcome.

An apology from her would be nice.

"Okay, Dante?" Lady grinned. "I'll come along just to make sure you don't fall asleep on the job. I know it SOUNDS boring, but it will pay for the electric at least."


	12. Rain is an Aphrodesiac

Author's Notes: Ummmm... I'm trying to make more demons come out with something devious in mind, but I can't. WAGGHHH... Is Alia an angel? Is Nina capable of living a normal life? Using Dante as a model probably isn't very good for her self-esteem...

Teenage Girls With Cameras 12  
Rain Is An Aphrodesiac

* * *

"Hey, Dante."

"Uh?"

"Smile." Click.

"You're going to pay for that." The devil hunter snatched the camera from her grasp and went back through the digital pictures to arrow through all the previous photos. "You know, since I got this for you, I'm glad to see you taking pictures of some decent subject matter. Hey - what's this?" He swung his legs underneath him and stood up, holding the camera up above his head while Nina scrambled at his side to somehow climb him to grab it away.

"N-No! Give me that back! Seriously, Dante, give it--"

"Whoa! Nice... Are those Alia's or yours? Or, wait, don't tell me, those are Lady's...Kinky~"

"Sonofabitch!!" A sharp resounding crack resulted from a well-aimed toe to the back of Dante's knee. He fell a little - just long enough for Nina to snatch the expensive digital camera from his hand, drop it to the floor, and dive after it to make sure it was not broken. "Whew. Hell, Dante!" Blushing furiously, she went about figuring out how to erase the photos. "I was just trying to figure out which button it was... I didn't know it had taken pictures--"

"Do you usually play with your electronics clad in just your undies?"

"Why?" She propped the camera on her hip and smirked. "Curious?" It wasn't easy to make Dante flustered, but he took it all in stride - like everything else in his life. Bills? Psh. Whatever. A footnote in the reality that was his life. And if Nina wanted to flirt a little, then the ball was in his court then, wasn't it?

"I think so. Just like there's something about guns and motorcycles and being topless that gets me a smidge flustered." He leaned against his desk and smirked at her. "But girls and their gadgets - it just gets you all hot and bothered, don't it?"

This time, Nina was blushing to the tips of her ears. "Uh-huh. Just remember, Dante. YOU'RE the one who bought me the damn thing."

"Yeah, and I've half a mind to take it back if THAT'S the kind of thing you're using it for." He made a rather lewd insinuating motion - photographing his lower region - with a mean smile. "I'm NEVER getting you access to the internet. Ever."

"Aww. But I wanna be an online nude star, too."

"What do you mean 'too'?" Dante made a fake gasp. "You've been snooping on my computer again, haven't you!? I swear, officer, it's not what it looks like!"

Nina threw back her head and laughed a full-bellied laugh that shook her whole body. Her eyes gleamed with a new life - she felt a lot better now that she had finally snagged herself a part-time job. Better than nothing, Nina admitted. She would have liked something a little more fabulous than being a store clerk for a drugstore, but at least it was honest work. She enjoyed it when Dante dropped in to just buy a few two-liters of soda for himself and harass her a bit before going about his daily doing-nothing. In fact, she only went to work just to wait for him, as if she were arranging a time to meet a date.

And that was exactly the line of thinking Lady was starting to go out of her way to warn her about. Lady had been really nice since she got herself a job. Maybe she was a bit easier on the screaming matches with Dante when there were a couple girls around to ease the burden of being a female in a male-dominated house. Now Dante was a male in a female dominated fortress. It made them all feel pretty good to gang up on Dante once in awhile, until he went into one of his "moods" - a new instance of behavior Nina had not observed in Dante before. He got quiet and went outside a lot and didn't come back until much later, usually after midnight, and was usually his old self again in the morning - several volumes lower, maybe. But familiar old Dante all the same. Nina was warned by Lady that Dante was friendly and nice enough to let her stay, but he was still a half-demon and had his own problems.

"Well, so do I. At least he knows who HIS father is," Nina had replied firmly, and that put a period on the issue there.

She let herself enjoy the attention Dante gave her because he was the only guy she had ever had long conversations with, even if a bit superficial at times and none too close to home. Especially about the man Alia had met when she was a child. Dante seemed to know him. A perpetual thorn in his ass indeed. He got awfully clammy when she brought that man up at all.

So she wanted to ask Lady about it, but never found time. Lady was busy. Lady hunted demons - apparently they were more numerous than Nina herself realized. It scared her at night sometimes; it woke her and her nerves were on fire, thinking of all the things demons could do if they got their claws on her. But her only safeguard was Dante. He would save her stupid reckless ass every time, she knew it. And if not Dante, then Alia, who was always hovering about the house in her ghostly white clothes, her wings now capable of being hidden and summoned at will. Her heavenly abilities were developing steadily. Dante made her up a place of her own just next door. Alia rented it herself and quietly existed beside them. Sometimes she would show up on their stoop out of nowhere with offerings of food and baked goodies, all smiles. Like some kind of pastry angel of goodness.

Her mom would probably never understand what had happened to her, or why she had quit school and left home. All those things were meant for other folks. Dante certainly did not go to school. If she could guess his age (he'd never tell), it was probably between seventeen and twenty-one. She was almost in the same league as the white-haired devil hunter as far as supernatural crap went. BESIDES possessed copier machines, she understood the nature of the world was a lot more complicated than it had first appeared. She was still a kid herself. She barely understood her own hormones ninety-nine-point-nine-nine-nine percent of the time.

Alia was a mystery, too. Nina never would have thought months ago that her best friend was some kind of superhuman. She never got tired of looking at her wings. Additionally, she never got tired of looking at Dante. Ridiculous as it was, she was constantly forcing herself to keep away from him whenever it started to seem weird that she was following him with her eyes.

A quiet, quick rapping came at the door. She skipped to the door and peered out through. Alia was standing there in a white shawl and a pale yellow sun dress speckled with small orange flowers. She looked warmer and healthier than she had seen her in weeks.

She carried a basket of flowers in her arms. "Hello," she greeted happily. "May I come in?"

"S-Sure, go right ahead." She opened the door and let her inside. "What's the celebration?"

"I thought you might like to have these for the house. I mean, if you don't want them..." She saw Dante and her pale cheeks were reddening. "I can take them back."

Dante looked at the flowers as if they would grow fangs and horns. Quite honestly, he probably hated flowers. Just like he hated kids. He stared at the flower basket and made a slight but noticeable (at least to Nina) expression of disgust. Then it was quickly wiped away as he smiled. "Sure, sure. Whatever. Put 'em wherever you want."

Then he stomped over to the stairs and stomped all the way up the stairs and disappeared onto the roof. He often went there when he wanted to avoid Alia. Maybe to remove the temptation to ask her about that guy she met.

Who knew?

Anyway, Alia seemed genuinely interested in finding cups to put the flowers into and putting them all around the living room. For Dante's sake, Nina just wanted to let her down gently that maybe Dante wasn't a big fan of pink and yellow tulips. In any instance, he probably didn't like any flowers whatsoever. But she didn't have the heart to say to Alia anything that would bring down her spirits. For awhile, Alia had been extremely depressed.

But today, she seemed exceptionally bubbly, her feathery voice wisping into soprano-notes as she hopped around the room in her sandle flats. "I think these would look quite exceptional in this alcove. I just have to move this skull here, and put it over there..."

"Don't touch that!" Nina cried suddenly, grabbing the skull. It was a rather grotesque trophy of one of Dante's hunts. It had enormous curving horns that were cracked and ancient, eyesockets that looked more malevolent without eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"It, um... It doesn't like to be moved."

After a long uncomfortable moment, gazing at the skull, she said finally, "Well, maybe I'll just put the flowers IN the skull." With a stern expression, she yanked the flowers from the purple drinking cup Dante never used and delicately nestled the flowers in between the prominent horns of the demon skull. "There."

"Like a pretty princess," Nina muttered, setting the skull back into the alcove. Then she heard a breathy laugh from behind her; the teenagers turned and grinned at each other for awhile. They both knew what Dante would think when he came downstairs. He would probably growl and cast hateful glares at all the color in here before broodily sinking into his sofa for a nap to sleep it off.

"So, what's up with you? Have you found God?" Nina knew it was half-joking. But she knew at any time that she might be proven wrong. It made her afraid, but she was fairly confident that there was only the supernatural world of demons and that pretty much anything supernatural came from there anyway. But she did not want to go around saying that her friend Alia was from Hell.

"No," Alia answered. "But I have discovered ancient texts of varying natures. I try to avoid books written by men who only want to feed on the viral nature of religious subjects."

"Yeah, you won't find anything educational really in there." Though she knew little about it, Nina's mom was into New Age kind of stuff. Her eyes were alight with a vicarious kind of joy, for Alia looked happy hopefully because she had found a means to discover the true nature of her powers. Hell, maybe it might even say something about whether there were more half-demon kids running around in the world, not even knowing who they really were!

"So you got them with you? The books and stuff?"

"Yes. I've read through them but some of them are quite hard to decode. You see.. it's written in the demon language, a language lost centuries ago. No one uses it anymore unless they really know their dark crafts."

"Uh-huh." Nina wandered over to the kitchen and snagged a string cheese from the fridge; Alia followed mindlessly as she continued.

"In one book, it details the reign of Sparda. He fell in love with a human woman and they had two sons, Vergil and Dante. See! Isn't that fascinating? I was beginning to think about that man I met back then... had an uncanny resemblance to 'Adam', although I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Now I realize--"

Nina covered Alia's mouth and shushed her. Heavy thumping footsteps clunked down the stairs slowly and heavily. He was barreling down the stairs like a stalling freight train, but she still felt the heat of his emotions as if a hot summer had suddenly blown in.

"Goin' out." With that unsoliciting grunt, he flipped his big leather jacket off the hook by the door, flung it onto his shoulders and was out the door before he even had time to notice the flowers and complain.

"But that was all there was about them," Alia whispered. "But there are books about the supernatural creatures that exist in the so-called Demon World." Here, Alia looked to be a bit depressed. "Well... Stories about changelings, have you heard about those?"

"I... can't say as I remember, no." Nina sat down, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that she should follow Dante this time - but she forced herself to ignore it.

"Changelings are, or were at one point, children who were stolen from their homes and exchanged for another of their kind. The ones who take their place in the human's homes tried their hardest to act and look exactly like the child that was stolen so that they can live there in secret for reasons unknown. The child that was kidnapped becomes a changeling him- or herself. So the cycle goes on. Well... I understand that maybe this is how it worked for me. Except... I don't remember my days in the Demon World at all."

"So you're a demon?"

"Maybe. It seems to point in that direction. But I don't know!" Alia pounded her small fists against her thighs in an uncharacteric show of frustration. "I just don't know! I can only speculate based on these texts. But for now, we shall classify anything other than human as "demon" and classify it more specifically later."

"Here's a question, then." Nina felt a sort of rising meanness in her; she knew that it wasn't fair, but she had to know. "Would you call Dante a demon?"

"Yes."

"Even though his mother was a human?"

Alia pursed her lips. "Nina, what are you doing?"

"Well, what do you think? If my mom was a human and my father was a demon, then that should make me a demon also. But if my mother was the demon and my father was the human, would that make me any different? What about Dante? He doesn't slaughter and kill people for the pure joy of it. I don't either. But are we demons, or humans, or what?" Nina glared at her. "It's all well and good to find out what the hell YOU are, but I've got my own identity crisis going on. So don't go poking around things you don't fucking understand!"

What the hell was WITH her? Nina watched as Alia's sunlit expression clouded over slowly, sullen, beaten. Then she gathered up her empty flower basket and went toward the door. "Great," Nina muttered. "Just perfect. And while you're at it, why don't you stab yourself in the face with a chainsaw?"

But she was unexpectedly hurt. In all this rushing around trying to be NORMAL, she hadn't forgotten one thing that she could never deny. A chainsaw to the face might kill her... or leave her horribly scarred for life but undeniably healed faster than a normal human might. But Alia's searching and Nina's denial of it was proof: she wasn't normal. Human or demon, she was a stranger among other human beings. She knew something they would never begin to imagine.

She was scared of what her future looked like. It looked rosy if she ignored the fact that she was some half-demon spawn. But it looked shittier when she began to realize she may not be able to survive on her own outside of Dante's protection.

The girl stopped there. Protection. There she went again - thinking Dante was going to be there every time she skinned her half-demon knee in some epic struggle with her twisted little demon buddies.

"GOD DAMN IT!" she shouted, more a wail of despair than anything. Stupid stupid stupid. "I can't! I can't do anything!!"

And then Lady walked in through the front door with a bag of groceries and what looked to be a very satisfied look on her face. "Well, that was a steal. Nina?"

"You've got your life all nice and neatly sliced up for you," Nina sobbed, wiping her eyes furiously. "I've got... nothing. I'm going to work at that stupid store like some country bumpkin and dodge supernatural attempts on my life just because I exist and Alia's all excited because she found some stupid book about Sparda. Like she found the fucking Holy Grail. But that doesn't help me AT ALL. She's a demon too, just like me and Dante, but she won't admit it to herself. _Just like me!_"

"What?" Lady sighed and walked over to put the groceries in the kitchen for a minute. It seemed the entire point of Nina's rant was completely lost on her. "By the way, I ran into Dante. Said he was going downtown to that club he likes. He said if you wanted to talk to him, he won't be back until late so don't wait up like you always do."

"Lady!" Nina stomped her foot, embarassed by it immediately, then walked toward her and shook her by her arms. "Lady, do you believe in good and evil?! Do you think I'm... evil? That just by being born with demon genes you're bad?"

Nina's eyes met Lady's two-colored ones. In a heartbeat, they softened and a tone Lady had never used before smoothed over her voice. Nina had to guess it was supposed to be 'motherly'. "I think you know who to look for to remind yourself that not every demon is evil. He carries his genes, all right. Whether he's satisfying some twisted little hunger by killing demons, who knows? The main thing is, as long as he wants to help people at the same time, he's good in my books. Sometimes I want to slap the bastard to kingdom come, but that's not the point." Lady smiled. "Not everything is going be that simple. Don't let Alia's black-and-white thinking make you start thinking your destiny's going to be bloodbaths and stuff. Everyone's got to walk a fine line once in awhile. Some people have to do it all their lives."

Nina was too stuffy to interrupt her, so she kept quiet. She snuffled and sighed at her own tears. "I wish I were more like Dante. He never cries over this stuff."

"You'd be surprised." Lady smiled, shaking off a distant memory. "Wanna help me put this crap away? Then we can have some ice cream and hit the hay. Oh, flowers. Alia's just too nice."

Yay, girl time! Nina's heart warmed up to Lady again. "Sounds like a plan to me." Meanwhile, another plan formed in the back of her mind that she would execute after lights out.

* * *

The smoky air had an alcoholic tang to it The stink of sweat, cigarettes, sometimes even weed circled the club. But other than that, it was a nice little operation. Music pulse nightly, and the walls reverberated with the laughter and pleasure only a place like this could provide. It was to be distracted by the music, laser lights, jazzy atmosphere that was the main undercurrent of the club itself. Big sofas that were easy to clean, women that were very easy on the eyes, and people who were more than happy to talk to perfect strangers.

Of course, Dante never came here for the soundproofed upper floor above the smoking rooms of expensive clients. He came here for the noise. Sometimes the booze, but he needed to buy over twenty bottles of their hardest stuff before he felt a tickle of a buzz. He reclined in a half-circle sofa surrounded by nothing but air, tipping back a bottle of Jack. He licked them as he watched people. He loved people-watching. He could usually smell a demon half the club away this way. And low-profile, he would watch their movements, try to guess what their twisted pleasure was before they disappeared upstairs to have their little fun.

He was also here to work sometimes. He was the club's under-the-table demon bouncer. An overzealous incubus would cause an understandable ruckus, so he would usually judge by their attitude, the nature of their movements, their eyes... they cloaked themselves in human skin, but nothing could mistake the hunger flickering behind the soulless eyes.

Some demons actually worked here themselves. That was because the man who owned the club was a night-faring bloodsucker (literally) who wanted Dante's protection as long as he promised quality, safety, and equal treatment between his mortal and demon clients and employees.

Of course, Dante wasn't a popular person among demons to begin with. Which was why he was sitting alone, watching. So he did not make too much money here. He wasn't working on any specific schedule, but lately he came back night after night to work. Except tonight. He told Bruce the Bloodsucker when he came in.

He wanted to watch.

A woman approached him, walking up the stairs illuminated by glowing lights set under thick glass beneath the floor. A dress with a slit that went straight to her hip exposed a vulgar amount of lean, tanned leg, athletic calves. To counter-balance that, a tasteful amount of bosom was exposed in the velvety black fabric. Dante watched her move toward him, the way her hips swayed, her long dark red hair cascading down her back. She wore matching black heels, elevating her a good three inches more.

"Are you playing nice with the customers?" Dante greeted. It was an icy greeting.

"Nice as pie and twice as sweet," the Amazonian redhead purred. "Hmm. How come you never play?" Her lips were succulent, made more wanting by the natural color they were. Her eyes invited one to look to them, slitted, promising things no woman of such good looks had any right to. She glided onto the sofa and sat so close he could smell the sweat of the last man who had danced with her beneath the cloying aroma of her perfume.

Dante's tone, though playful, still remained as icy. "I like to play rough. I might accidently... break you."

The woman cooed. "Don't make promises you don't intend to keep. Still, I must ask... what brings you here night after night if not to play? You used to romp with the best of us, but now you're all work and no play. Dull Dante!"

"I'm not working tonight, am I?" He felt her push closer, and noticed that her leg had moved across one of his knees, and the fabric fell just over the soft place between her legs. She probably wasn't wearing any panties.

"I can't help but noticed that you look like something's on your mind. I can help... distract you. I'll distract you so good, you'll have no room for worry in that lovely skull of yours."

Dante sighed deeply. "Barking up the wrong tree, woman." He reached behind his back to scratch an itch. When his hand returned, something cold and hard nosed along her belly. "If you wanna keep your child-bearing properties intact for other customers, I suggest you go shake your tits at someone else."

The woman narrowed her eyes, her face suddenly a little ugly. She bared her teeth in a grimace of a snarl and glided away. "You know, it's a shame no one can bed you. Everyone knows Sparda was a lady-killer in more ways than one." With that scalding remark, she sauntered off.

Dante holstered the gun again, exercising a restraint most would never have known him to possess. Taking hits about his father was part of his job. Sparda this, Sparda that. All part of the package.

He stared at the floor and grimaced, wondering why it suddenly bothered him. _No one can bed me_, he thought, _because I'm afraid I'll kill them. I won't fuck a demon because I won't stand anyone parading the fact around, and I won't take a girl home because I'd probably maim her somehow._

Vergil would have laughed at him right now for his weakness. He was the son of Sparda; he could pick any damn woman he felt like. Vergil wouldn't have cared if anyone got hurt... but then, Vergil had bigger ambitions than sex.

Dante didn't care if he never got laid in his life. But there was a difference between laid and not being lonely.

He sighed, rising to get the kinks out of his shoulderblades and get a refill at the fountain. Ignoring the burning in his blood that demanded he uphold his honor by making a stain out of that bitch, he walked down the glowing stairs and through the throng of people, tables and chairs. He deposited his empty bottle and it was replaced by another and he walked back through, intending to go back to his seat. But as soon as he got to the top of the stairs to peer over people's heads, the entire sofa was repossessed by a man and a flock of nubile women and one young man who looked like a woman.

"Tch. Great." He walked back - not too surprised that the crowd parted like the Red Sea did for Moses - to hunt for another place to sit.

Then he saw Nina standing by the bar, talking away with another man, eyes brightly painted, a low-cut top that exposed her too-small breasts and a faint whiff of perfume that smelled like Lady's. He practically ran toward her. As soon as her eyes alighted on him, she smiled.

"There you are!"

"What are you doing here?"

"Talking and drinking some orange juice." She stared at the bottle in his hand and rolled her eyes. _As if she has any right to pass judgment right now!_

"Nina," Dante hissed, struggling to sound patient, "how did you get in here?"

"I told 'em I was with you and they let me right in. It was easier than I thought. Kind of disappointed me, but at least I'm inside. It's starting to rain."

Dante felt his temples begin to pound. A scritching began in the back of his mind. His Trigger was restless. He gave it about fifteen minutes before he had to get an outlet, or he would be stalking that bitch from earlier and making her face into demon paste. "I told Lady to tell you not to wait up for me. And this is kind of the exact opposite of what I said. In fact, it's--"

"She told me, but I couldn't sleep. And I couldn't lay awake waiting to hear you come upstairs, so I went out. This place isn't hard to find. And you never tell me where you go! I get nervous!" Her voice had developed that familiar adolescent whine - the one that made him want to bend her over his knee and paddle her ass with the flat of Rebellion's blade. "And I wasn't tired," she added sleepily. "Dante, what are you doing?"

"I'm extremely pissed right now." He drained the whole bottle, still full, in three gulps and tossed it away somewhere. Hell with it. "Go home."

Nina shifted in her seat near the bar, cupping her OJ close, not letting it out of her immediate field of view. Smart girl. She could have been drugged, dragged off, violated in one of the worst ways this place could offer without breaking Bruce's rules. It could get pretty bad... but believe it or not, some humans actually paid to endure it.

"I want to stay. I want to talk to you."

"YOu want to talk? Right now? In this club? About... what, exactly?" He leaned against the bar. The person she was talking to disappeared as soon as Dante had arrived.

"What's bothering you?"

"Is something written on my forehead?" He rolled his eyes. Women! Constantly inventing problems when there wasn't a logical explanation for a man's behavior. "Nothing."

"Then are you out so late, and it's so much lately. I'm worried."

"Nina... considering my line of work, do you honestly expect me to keep decent hours? Of course not. Besides, this... business... is an honest one as long as I keep everyone in line and happy. When I'm not working, Bruce keeps watch. I just help sometimes, that's all. It's only open at night, so of course I have to come in at this time."

She sipped her OJ, skepticism written on her every movement. He read something even more - something was bothering her too, but it was taking a backseat for now. She was willing to listen and he was going out of his way to be a dick about it.

The devil hunter sighed and finally offered her his hand. "Come on. I'll talk to you on the way home."

"I walked."

"So did I."

They went outside into the air, which was heavy with the expectation of rain. Nina scuttled after Dante, eyes locked onto his back. She saw his guns there and shivered, wondering if Dante had any nights where he had a need to use them. She had no idea he almost did just that, on a woman daring to slander his father's name to his face. When it started to rain, she swore and darted under every eave she could find. When they ran out, it was pouring and Dante didn't seem to care in the least, protected in his water-proofed leathers.

"You should have checked the weather channel before you left," he chided, "or better yet, stayed home."

"You haven't explained to me why you're sad." Nina pouted, resigning herself to walking through puddles beside the white-haired one. "Or why you've been avoiding Alia whenever she comes over." She didn't mention the flowers. She wanted to save that surprise as long as possible.

Dante clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Who said I was sad?"

Nina stared at him.

He relented. "Okay. Ugh. Fine. Maybe I'm kind of down, but that's no reason for you to follow me out in the middle of the night! Everyone gets depressed."

"I know you're depressed a lot but you're not really making any efforts to hide it as much. You're looking at a chick, Dante! Women are experts at covert emotions. We make a damn living out of trying to decode men's little moodswings."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Why are you avoiding Alia?" Nina was taking great pains to gentle her voice so she wouldn't drive him to clam up again. The rain must make him feel more comfortable - she wondered why.

"...Because I don't want her to be disappointed when she finds out that we're it: demons. That's all."

"Maybe it's because... you don't want to be let down either?" she supplied.

Dante actually considered it. Then he shrugged noncomittally, wiped his hair out of his eyes, and said, "Yeah. I want to think there's more. But that club is a prime example of why I don't believe in any god or angels. I wouldn't have to be there playing referee to some sick twists. If a just and loving deity did not abide a place like that, it just wouldn't exist, would it? I'd be out of a job."

"It's a nice thought, I guess. Thinking we're not alone. That someone's actually got the plan and they're going to help us get through. But giving up on it isn't the best way to go about it either." She took his hand. Her fingers were freezing. "I'm sorry for making you mad and worried again. I was scared for you."

His eyes fastened to her face. Her entire outfit was soaked through, and shivering though she was, she was doing her best not to look cold. "Heh. Gonna freeze to death over there?"

"I'll be fine. This is nothing." Chatter, chatter. Shudder, shudder.

"Uh-huh." He put his arm around her.

She leaned away from him, not because he was wet and cold but because she was trying to play it safe. Lady seemed adamant about staying platonic with Dante. But he was genuinely concerned about her getting cold and pulled her firmly to him while they walked. They reached another eave and stood beneath it for awhile. The rain was just coming down too hard to go much further.

He looked out into the downpour, a pensive look on his harsh features, his blue eyes gleaming unnaturally. It was starting to remind her of that time in the snow on her front doorstep when her mother had no idea who Dante was, when he had gone out of his way to embarass her.

Tired and cold, Nina leaned her head on his chest.

The devil hunter stiffened. He would have liked to say, "Cut it out", but she just looked tired and he would have pissed her off. He laid an arm around her shoulders. She was so damn short. But it was nice, because it meant he didn't have to always look her in the eye.

He lowered his voice. "It's getting better. You want to get walking again?"

"No," she grumbled against his coat. "Warm." She tightened her hold and giggled. "All right, all right. Sorry." She was parting ways with his coat already, dancing off down the street, still frozen.

He was still trying not to stare at her soaking shirt. _Damn fool. She's still just a kid, idiot._

_But so was I at her age. Remember what you were doing then? _His logic, flawed as it was, rattled around in his brain. He fired insults at himself a long time. He breathed deep, trying to concentrate on her and not how the rain reminded him of the night his brother Vergil pierced him. He greived every day and every night, and only when he was working his body to the bone did he ever, for a moment, forget. But he was almost at that point of forgetfulness holding Nina.

_You've got to ditch her somehow. But I don't want to._

He never talked to anyone like that before. It was such a brief conversation, but already he felt the awe of it sinking in. He had really wanted to believe that not all demons were inherently evil. Only a rare, special, precious few ever learned that goodness sometimes paid off more than evil. Generosity over greed. Humility over hubris. Love over hate.

They walked in through the front door. The teenage girl went straight into the bathroom to grab a towel. The white-haired male hung up his coat and went after her, tired as well but hungry... for whatever. He trusted his instincts and was well rewarded - Nina wrapped a towel around her bare shoulders, trying to take out her earrings. She didn't notice him nearby until he took a step into the bathroom, reaching for a second towel. A drop of water dripped on her neck from his hair and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Dante!"

He dropped the towel over her head and started drying off her hair by squeezing the rainwater out of it, wiping rather than tousling the drenched locks. She stood riveted in front of the mirror in her bra, a towel and her skirt, eyes as huge as saucepans.

_What the hell am I doing?_

He backed off, doing all he could to stay as cool as possible. But his heart was right in his mouth, making him mute. He just smiled a little bit and quickly but silently went over to the sofa - where he typically was found to be asleep in the morning.

Nina caught her breath quickly, her scalp tingling all over, her eyes watering. _He just... dried my hair?_

_What the hell does THAT mean?_

Then she realized:_ I don't have a clean shirt in here._ She peered out into the living room, tucking the towel around her upper body, then darted through the living area to the stairs and went up, to the store room Dante had made into a liveable bedroom. She barely spared him a single glance.

Nina shuddered under her nice, dry, warm blankets in her nighties. All over she was tingling from the weird memory. His eyes didn't 'devour her'. He was just... drying out her hair. If he spared her any kind of look, it wasn't lecherous at all. But she was in her bra! How the hell did he think he could just... do that?!

Whether it was really, really rude or not, she could not even begin to say. Scariest part was... she didn't mind at all.


	13. Prophetic Wings

**Author's note**: The word's written in the tower are from T.S. Elliot's poem, The Hollow Men. And, uh. this chapter's effed up. I came up with an idea for Alia about half-way through writing the first few paragraphs. I even wrote it down in a notebook thingy (which I rarely do). Writers, advice: Keep a 'bible' - write down everything, whta happens, what things look like, what color things are - because in the midst of writing, you'll forget the darnedest shit.

**Teenage Girls With Cameras 13  
Prophetic Wings**

Alia spread her wings out, ready to test them again when she heard the first call of thunder. She shivered and instinctively tucked them against her back again. Her legs were folded beneath her while she crouched against the side of the tallest building in the city. Her eyes were huge, taking in the wide expanse of sky - choked with rainclouds, viewing the rolling darkness closing on the skyline, black fingers harrowing the light.

Tears spilled from her eyes. Suffocating on her own breath, she heard and saw again and again the anger of that girl who she had gone to school with. It felt like millenia ago. A tongue of blue fire licked the clouds as she watched crouched and hunched, back bent unnaturally against the chilll wind, her sharp starved features carving a block of silhouette against the flash of lightning.

Alia hugged the wall of the building. Then, scuttling upward using the wall to guide her and windowsills to propel her, she made her way higher, but at the top, viewing the world was an eagle might, her world swam and shuddered. Her wings might fail her. She wavered and tottered unsteadily, every inch of her feeling like it was made of rubber. She knew her wings were not weak. She was very practical about exercising her strange new appendages whenever she could; would those long hours knocking things off of shelves as she beat them furiously pay off?

_He broke my wings from my cursed body._

She gazed at the powdery white-gray wings on her back. They were just wings, like the wings of a gray dove or a goose. Far less grander than a goose or a dove.

Far less than... what she hoped she had been. It was a gift she would always be thankful for, coming from him.

Dante never was going to like her. The way he always looked at her when he wasn't 'fake' looking - with his eyes, but now with the rest of him. Distantly looking at her out of politeness, or simply not looking at all as he talked, talked, talked. Now, somehow, he did not grant her even a glance. A cursory hello and then he disappeared himself from the room.

It stung. She liked to consider Dante her friend. He ignored her, he walked away from her, he never looked at her, and he never thanked her once for her offerings even though she knew deep down he did not appreciate her flowers or her smiles or her presence at all.

Why didn't he like her? Why did it matter so much that she gain his favor? What did the emotions of a half-demon weigh in her life?

Lightning gutted the darkness above her, showering her with light. Her hair stood on end and every freckled inch of her tingled. Subcutaneous levels of her skin were tingling somehow. She cringed her way down the part of the building she thought was safe. Her wings spread out and began to glow with a solar brilliance, blinding.

Hundreds of feet below, traffic was slowing, tiny metal beetles crawling to a stop. Lightning burst apart the sky again and arced in her direction - directly for the lightning rod beside her. Her skin burned apart, her vision went first white, then red, then black. In her ears, a constant roar like a distant rolling of stones down a monstrous mountain. She felt air gushing out of her in a soundless shrieking.

Her blind eyes failed to alert her to the fact that the ground was growing closer. Her burned skin failed to feel the air rushing through her clothing, the imminent falling. Her wings were...

A face formed out of the darkness. First near, then far - a sword sheathed in his grip. It was a blurry face, two dark spots for eyes, but as she fell farther, she forgot about the deadened pain. Two hands seized her by the wrists and dragged her from the black roaring, and they belonged to the face.

His features were cold, severe, carved from ice that somehow seemed warm compared to eyes that looked through her, judging her.

"You are almost ready," he said while he lifted her. He pulled her up through the distant roaring that resolved itself into noise that made sense - other than his words, which struck her through. She tried to keep his face in front of her, but it disappeared in the veil of nothingness.

Emergency vehicle sirens severed her dream. She looked down, wondering why her feet were still dangling below her. Her arms were suspended up above her head, her fingernails scraping stone. There were no lights at all in any of the buildings around her, and especially this one, which smelled like it had been doused in ozone. Her wings hung around her like a veil. The glow that had once made feathers stand out like a torch had died away. Finally she looked up, shivering as the rain poured over her. She had fallen several feet. Her hands must have caught the gargoyle leaning out from the building. She was holding on by its talons, and the baleful look craftily carved into its face seemed to glare with the same coldness as... him.

The man she met so long ago. She summoned up the memory, him standing beside her in the massacre of demons and humans.

She remembered the way her mother had scolded her when she cried, "Mom, they're everywhere! You don't understand, every single person here is... is a monster!"

Her father's look as he glared over the top of his newspaper. It was disdainful, pitying, and most frustrating of all, apathetic.

Alia had been livid. And then, the newspaper and her father's face were split in two.

It happened so quickly that the body of her father barely had time to spray blood before falling sideways out of the lawn chair. She ran, ran from the monsters tearing open doorways through people's skin. Bodies exploded all around her. She felt the demons around her before she saw them, an oily burning sensation on her body. Now she was in horrible pain, sick to her stomach, horrified. What was it she was witnessing? The screams of victimized humans confirmed it - she was not hallucinating, she was not schizophrenic, and this was really happening.

She ran to the outdoor pool, barring herself against the drink vendor. Demons swarmed the resort, massacreing anything that was human and destroying whatever they felt like. They saw the refreshment stand as a likely candidate for demolition and she scurried out.

They looked like Death incarnate - their scrawny limbs barely sustaining the enormous scythes they wielded. They hunkered toward her, noises issuing from them that made her ears feel like they would start to bleed.

Her parents were dead. Their bodies desecrated by demons, she was alone, facing down Death incarnate.

Then something blue fell - a balcony on the top floor had blown open and the figure in blue descended. Demons on lower balconies fell apart after being touched by the swift movement of a blade Alia could barely see as it arced and carved through the air. He cut them down while he fell - that much she could comprehend.

He landed on the three points - two feet and one hand, his other hand sliding the blade slowly into its sheath. His blue coat opened like wings, the color of the summer sky. But he failed to notice her at all - she was eclipsed by the demon who was slowly raising its scythe to cut her to pieces.

Then, what she now knew was the awakening of her power, her body burned and ached. She felt it rise through her; purified light exploded from her - from every part of her - and when she could blink away the light left on her retinas, every demon close enough to be touched by it had been absolutely reduced to ash.

The man in blue - Vergil Sparda - removed a hand from his face where fresh blistering skin was steadily healing over.

He approached her with all the calm assurance of a murderer. She cowered, exhausted and helpless from her exertion of energy.

Dumbly she asked where her parents were.

"They're all dead." He included everyone staying at the resort: Devils and humans. Then he left her that cryptic message and walked away, leaving her to fend for herself.

_Climb up_, she thought - or was that someone else? She gripped the gargoyle's talons harder, swinging a little. Easier said than done when her wings were unfolded and catching every lethal breath of wind which threatened to cast her body against the earth.

"Or maybe you can let go."

She gasped, looking up. Leaning on the gargoyle's head, there was a silhouetted figure whose face nearly scared her as well as riveted her. Vergil smiled like Dante, watching her dangle helplessly. She looked miserably toward his inactive hands, wondering if he was going to help her or watch her flounder in the air with her wings flapping franticly. She kept imagining her body being crushed like a ripe tomato, exploding on the pavement.

"Fly," Vergil/Dante commanded. Laughing, he leaned forward and peeled her fingers off the gargoyle's talons, already slick with rain, and watched her fall with an expression of mischeivious fascination - like he had cut off a spider's leg.

"Don't panic, fool!"

But the wind really was rushing around her. The cold rain still fell faster than she did, though. She tried to unfold her wings but no matter how she twisted, the wind never caught underneath them and bore her weight. She was crying already, and the visage that appeared was already gone when she looked up.

But her descent was slowing even if she was twisting and turning stupidly like a wayward hatchling. She beat her wings and twisted to get her belly to face the earth The nearest, next-tallest building was several yards away and growing closer. She squeaked and made her wings work harder, clenching her hands to her chest and wincing. Higher, she willed them.

Wonderfully, she cleared the top of the building. Rain stung her skin and her face as she soared, battling sudden gusts of wind that bathed her in water. Even though she was freezing, she allowed herself to feel elated.

She had - she was - flying. But cold air and fresh exhaustion made her muscles ache and stiffen up. She clumsily circled around lower and lower, toward what she knew was the Devil May Cry sign, a blinking crimson neon sign like a runway guide.

She barely managed to avoid crashing into it. Instead she busted through a screen window into someone's bedroom and landed on top of them. The winged girl apologized, but the person underneath her was screaming, punching, and kicking.

"Ohmygod, what the hell is this giant bird doing in my room?! Dante!!"

"Nina?!"

Her soaking wings disappeared. She was panting heavily and thankfully Nina had stopped pummeling her, but now her ribs were killing her and her shin felt like it was going to have a very prominent black-and-blue lump very soon.

"I-I'm sorry. I went out to go fly."

"What? In THIS weather? Y-You smell terrible, like something's burning."

"I... I had an accident. Then I..."

"Alia?"

"I don't know. It was very odd. But... Oh! Nina! I was FLYING!" She giggled giddily, stood up too fast, spun around in a half-circle and landed on Nina's bed. "Oh. I'm in so much pain."

"Your clothes are all charred. Damn it, you got struck by lightning, didn't you?" The rest of Nina's verbal chastises devolved into nonsensical burbling. Her body still tingled fresh, and remembering how she had been struck, her skin thrummed dully and strangely sent her into a deep, healing sleep.

* * *

Dante could have sworn he heard something last night. Nothing seemed totally amiss, so he ignored it.

Then he woke from a half-formed dream, a very pleasant one, when Nina's voice talking at him disrupted his slumber. "Dante, it's time to get up. Alia flew into my window last night and now the screen's broken. Are there ANY clean towels? There's water all over the floor."

He grunted. He opened one eye just enough to make sense of the hands on the clock hanging above his front door. It was four in the morning.

"I'd love to hear how this is earth-shatteringly important at this hour," he said, "but I have a hot babe waiting for me in my dream. Good-bye."

She punched him right in the solar plexus and knocked the breath right out of him. He rolled off the sofa onto his knees and coughed, turning to meet Nina's expression with one of his own. Burning hazel eyes threatened that if he argued any more, she would make sure he lost more than just a good night's sleep. She was rubbing her knuckles, so his only satisfaction that punching him THAT hard seemed to cause her discomfort.

"Just tell me where the towels are," she demanded, "and I'll let you go to back to bed, lazy."

The white-haired devil hunter opened his mouth to issue a retort, but he then got a sniff of the air. He stood up, cracking his neck with his hands. "You said Alia-" Crackle. "-did what?"

"Apparently she considers heary cloud-to-ground lightning decent flying weather. She flew into my window and smelled awful, but she's out now, resting. I can't sleep with her all over my bed smelling up the room."

"What does it smell like?" He sniffed her. "Hnn. Sulfur. That's some awful funny lightning." His face gained a look of dark amusement. "Interesting. Something happens the night I decide to go to bed at a decent hour. Figures."

She knew that look on his face - the curving smile, the glitter in his blue eyes, the way he held himself changed naturally from playful-sleepy to deadly-alert. She tensed her back. "What does it mean?"

"I don't know. I'll have to ask our sleeping beauty when she wakes up." He sauntered to the fridge to grab a bite to eat. She followed him with her eyes, realizing that she was still wearing her warm sweatpants and a camisole top for sleepwear. He pulled out a two-liter cream soda from the fridge and looked at her, as if for the first time. He lifted the bottle and winked at her as he drank.

A little later, Nina changed into something more presentable while Dante got some things ready for an exploration day. She chose some sturdy stretch jeans, sneakers, a longsleeve shirt and a hat to tuck her hair into. Blissfully ignorant, Alia slept on in the same room. Now Nina recognized the sulfur smell - it was nauseating. Great. I'll have to wash my sheets and disinfect the whole damn mattress or something.

She rendezvous-ed with the devil hunter in the kitchen. "What do you think's going to happen?"

He stacked a sandwich consisting mostly of salami, ham and roast beef with some lettuce and cheese onto a plate. He munched on that while leaning on the counter, tomato juice escaping onto the corner of his mouth. "If I'm right about assuming where she went, then it would explain a lot of things."

"And where do you think she went?"

"Well... if you wanted to get a lot of air to practice flying, you wouldn't go for a small building. You'd go for the tallest one in the whole area, right?"

He looked at Nina, wondering if she knew the area well enough to know where he was talking about. She tapped her chin and he took in her appearance. Last night, she had dressed simple and comfortably in the skort and snug-fitting sleeveless top. Tonight she was wearing a snug-fitting longsleeve black shirt, dark blue stressed jeans and black skateboarder's shoes. Over all that was a long black tapering rain jacket with a purple inside lining. She looked cozy but capable.

Suddenly she nodded. "Yeah... yeah, it's that big tall building... something-memorial. It's because that Tim-In something happened there."

"Bingo." A crystal-clear savagery entered his face. His eyes were stormy, haunted by a memory just behind his pin-point pupils, but the rest of his expression boasted so much confidence it was contagious. "Okay, kids. Time for a field trip~."

The twin blue-and-red broadswords seemed to shiver with anticipation from their places against his shoulderblades.

"What about Alia?" Nina reached for a little piece of paper to put next to Alia while she was asleep. "I don't want to leave her here by herself." Waking her up might have its own dangers. _How can I call myself her friend after how I treated her yesterday?_

"I don't mind. Three's a crowd, as they say."

"Two's company," she added softly. Then she shook her head and charged upstairs, her coat tails flying. "Alia! Alia, we're going somewhere! You're coming with us!"

A sleepy bespectacled teenage girl came downstairs, her clothing scorched, but her skin untouched and freckled everywhere as usual. Dante seemed to look at her as if for the first time, head tilted to a side. "I'm sorry... I can't seem to remember how I got here."

"You came in through the window," Nina said shortly, then a bit more gently: "You had a date with a thunderbolt and came home a mess."

She looked down, rubbing the black char from her dress. "Oh. Should I get changed?"

"Probably... Let's go next door." She guided her to Alia's apartment and waited while the other girl changed, watching as Dante looked down the one road - where there stood an enormous effigy to the strange and terrible Temen Ni Gru.

It was said no one could remember what had happened, but people were drawn to make the building all the same. Priests and religious figures from all over came to the site of the tower and blessed it over and over, called by some unseen force. As the city sections that were destroyed were rebuilt, the stone effigy was raised in honor of the people who had fallen victim to the disaster it wrought.

And yet no one could name the terrible thing that happened. The only word that came to their lips was the immense sadness the sight of the tower evoked.

So there it was standing, carvings of angels and devils decorating its face. The four walls faced north, south, east, and west. An enormous wide-winged angel faced the west perched on top, and growing from the same stone on the opposite side rose a snarling devil whose membranous wings fluttered with real cloth.

"Dante, I don't understand. Are you and Lady the only people who know about what happened?"

"I guess so. Because someone close to her was involved... and someone close to me to me."

"Was it... that guy?"

"It was my brother... Vergil." With that, Dante said nothing else and started walking. Nina was about to bitch at him until Alia lightly stepped past her, following after Dante without appearing at all interested in knowing why they had to walk through the dark, lightless city at four-thirty in the morning.

* * *

"You were right up there," said Alia, pointing to the gargoyle twenty-feet from the very top of the tower. "I saw you. You made me fall."

"No," Nina said calmly and rationally. "You were struck by lightning, and somehow flew into my window."

"I was struck by lightning. But something else had happened before then. Something important. And after, I... I saw Mister Dante. Or I think I did."

"Dante was sleeping downstairs on the sofa," Nina said loudly. "There was no way you saw him up there!"

Alia pursed her lips. Something in that look told Nina she hadn't forgotten yesterday so easily. Her glasses reflected the distant lightning flashing in some other part of the city now. It was not raining at all, but there were large puddles. People were out walking to their cars with flashlights on their way to work. They stood in front of the effigy with a small crowd of people also looking up at the memorial. The Twin Memorial, it was called - for the angel and demon mounted at the very top.

"Why don't we all go up first, and see if there's a way anyone could get out that high? A window, or door, or something." Dante walked between them to make their gaze break. Nina huffed and looked own, an apology dancing behind her teeth but not quite making it from her tongue. Wordlessly, the girls followed him.

They gained entry through the large wooden double-doors inscribed with these words:

"Shape without form, shade without color, paralysed force, gesture without motion;  
Those who have crossed  
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom  
Remember us - if at all - not as lost  
Violent souls, but only  
As the hollow men  
The stuffed men."

"What kinda weird saying is that?" Nina muttered, feeling a chill as soon as she had finished reading them aloud. "Dante, do you know what it means?"

"Could mean lots of things." He walked inside, ignoring the well-formed script. "It was written by someone a long time ago. The whole thing is longer than that, but I can't guess why that particular part is on this door. But I can tell you," he sniffed, "human hands didn't enscribe it there."

Nina brushed her fingertips over the inscription without expecting to feel anything different, but as soon as her fingers touched it, she almost yelped with the shock of - something - slamming through her nerves.

Dante looked up at the flying buttresses toward a ceiling that seemed to go up forever. Marble stairs circled up along the wall and met directly across from the entryway. A glass tube elevator led up toward the upper floors. The walls were absolutely white; equidistant hidden wall sconces burned with electric lamps, making everything seem as though it was glowing from inside.

Before Dante could remark upon the drastic remodeling done to the tower, he tipped his head toward the vaulting tower's ceiling - on some upper floor, bells were ringing. Suspended so high, it was too dark to see them, but the tonorous booming reverberated all the way to vibrate the floor. No one commented that it was strange that only the lights in the tower worked.

"I think that's our cue to speed it up," Dante said as he cocked his head toward the doors slamming shut behind them as the bells continued to ring. "There's only one speed: mine."

"AH!" Nina barely had time to register what he meant before she saw him flying up the leftside set of stairs, arms pumping and taking each of the steps four at a time. She grabbed Alia's wrist and dragged her at as fast a run she could manage while cursing that her friend had chosen now to wear a pair of sandles instead of proper frickin' footwear. The red-coated figure dashed up the stairs until they reached the glass elevator. The doors were already open and waiting for them. He dove inside and held the door. Nina noticed a relief of an angel-devil combined that was as tall as the ceiling - where the glass tube disappeared into the second floor. His eyes gleamed with a tint of red - he was getting excited, a permenant grin pasted on his chiseled face.

Suddenly the door snapped shut so hard Nina swore he had broken his arm. He twisted his elbow and shoulder and pulled his hand in. As the elevator started to rise, he waved as if to say, "Sorry."

"Occupancy: one, huh?" Nina muttered, glaring as the tube silently lifted Dante out of sight. Her skin prickled all over, and when she brushed her fingers over her left arm, it left a wake of her demon armor superimposed over her skin. It was almost purple, green, gold - like the body of a bottle fly. She hated it... but at the same time, knowing it was there waiting for her, just for her...

She turned around. "Okay, Alia. I guess we have to wait until the elevator comes back."

Alia nodded, though she said nothing. Nina noticed her eyes were straying to her left arm too.

Nina pursed her lips. There was her apology again. Waiting to say something. She knew Alia could see it as a thought behind her eyes. Alia looked away, hands folded at her lap, her pale gray dress. Her eyes were hidden by her lengthening pale bangs.

The elevator took a long, long time for its return trip.

"Nina, I'm sure I saw him there. I saw Vergil Sparda."

"Vergil.. Sparda? Up there?!"

"I did see him. I know he's up there. And Dante is going to face him alone."

The elevator was swooshing back down. "We'll have to go in together quick. Okay?"

"Nina..."

The doors opened slowly; Nina grabbed Alia's hand again, and they dove inside - the elevator nearly snapped shut on Alia's dress. As soon as it started to move, Nina clung onto Alia tightly with an arm around her friend's shoulders - for protection toward her. She would rather not have a repeat incident of lightning. At the same time, she was convincing herself that Alia had to be seeing things. She had no idea what Vergil looked like, had no indication that the man she saw ages ago was him either. It just _sounded_ a lot like him...

"Ah... Nina!" The moment the elevator glided soundlessly to the second floor, Alia's legs gave out from underneath her. Something stabbed into Nina's left arm - a sudden pricking of a dagger-point right through the middle pressure point of her wrist - and she howled.

Her skin turned a charred, sickly purple starting from her fingertips and going upward. An agonized moan came from Alia, whose dress was soaking up blood from where her wings normally came out.

The elevator stopped presently. Since it was made of glass, they saw the rest of the room as it came into view - it was nothing like the floors below. It was cobwebbed, dark, and a world of evil seemed to pulsate from all around them. Nina clutched at her arm, staring through the glass doors - which had not opened.

She immediately looked for the red coat of Dante Sparda. She spotted nothing at all, but the strange sensation stabbing through her arm proved a formidable distraction - she wrenched her eyes away, looking toward Alia, straining to keep her brain from reaching panic-levels. It seemed to working a bit easier, since she was prepared for this sort of crap to happen now.

"Alia... what's happening? Can you feel anything at all?"

The young girl was not weeping or crying out from the pain, but her face was deathfully pallid. "I... I don't know what's happening to me... But... everything inside me hurts. I feel like... I'm about to break apart..."

Nina quickly squatted down to gently wrap an arm around her again, wincing at the increasing volume of blood and trying to figure out how exactly she was going to administer first aid withou any bandages. "We're not screwed yet," she muttered, waiting for hope. The girls felt a sudden shudder that rocked the tiny elevator, and a crack split down the middle of their prison.

Alia's body jerked, suddenly shuddering and shaking all over, so hard it was like something was trying to come out of her. She reeled out of Nina's grasp, landing against the side of the elevator next to the crack on it, and a tearing sound filled the small space with a horrible clarity and her dress managed to cling pathetically to her small form in shreds as her wings unfurled and blood poured from her, staining the carpetted floor a brownish red. The glass shattered all around them while Nina barely managed to cover her face but not soon enough to notice that a black feather fell before her face and a glass shard to slice her eyebrow in half.

Alia leapt from the elevator's remains and flew toward the scarlet figure standing at the top of a circular dias, her powerful wingbeats scouring the floor in obsidian petals the shape of feathers.

Swearing poured from the teenager's lips as she stood and watched her friend fly away from her, toward the figure awaiting up there at the top. Nina ran, ignoring the sharp pain that came with the sword erupting from her flesh. Exhiliration and a cool, distant control of her power reigned over her emotions now. No more blindly action, passion without purpose.

"Dante!" she yelled up at the man on the dias. He turned his head to look at her and smiled, but it was all wrong, even as she knew this whole place was twisted somehow, she could not say how, but it was wrong and knew that going up onto that dias was probably the dumbest thing she could do. But Alia was flying right at him, and she knew from the way she was moving it was with deadly intent she flew like the wind. "Alia's...!"

The man continued to smile. It was not a smile meant to convey, "I've got it taken care of"; instead, it was closer to, "The joke's on you."

"ALIA! No!!"

"Awaken," the red-coated man said clearly, his voice a mockery of the old familiar cadence Nina knew so well. He lifted the narrow sheath of the sword he bore, and his entire arm flicked once - the blade drawing a perfect crescent moon through the air as Alia flew directly above him. The naked blade shrieked; an explosion of black feathers fountained upward.

"ALIA!!" Nina shrieked, leaping onto the dias. She attacked the man, but he turned in an eyeblink to deflect the sword blow with the empty sheath of his blade in the other hand. With the slightest of body movements, he threw her down the dias onto the floor again with a dull thud. The sword stayed firmly clutched in her hand, but her entire left shoulder was throbbing.

Alia collapsed on the dias at the feet of the stranger. She hissed a string of curses, standing up. Was this Dante? But looking closer, she realized he wasn't... but he looked very much alike. His face was narrow, hollowed like he had been starving. He was so powerful! If she had to fight with Dante, would it be like that?

Then she realized who she was laying next to. Dante was crucifixed upside down to the wall. Rebellion was thrust through the middle of his chest, nailing him to the plaster carving of a winged demon. The twin broadswords Agni and Rudra suspended his arms. His feet tied up with the icy blue chain links that made up Cerberus. He wasn't moving or anything and blood was soaking into his hair dripping down from his chest, over his neck and jaw and...

Nina safely assumed he was dead.

The teenager shivered with nausea and sickness. She immediately went up to the white-haired male on the wall, trying to pry the sword Rebellion out of his chest. But it was harder than it looked and jammed in so well, she wondered if even her demon-strength could get it out.

She completely forgot about the Dante look-alike and Alia for a moment. When she couldn't get Rebellion free immediately, she spun around, staring at the man on the dias.

"Don't you touch her!" Nina snarled, throwing herself toward the dias.

The man pulled Alia to her feet, her black wings gleaming with fresh blood. It was her own, but the rest of her looked fairly unharmed. Limp and ragged, as if all life had been sucked out of her, her fingers barely forming small fists.

"Stand down, girl." The mock-up Dante encircled Alia around the waist before stepping to the very center-most circle. "This is beyond your own reckoning. Go lick his wounds before you challenge me again."

"Who are you?! Stop running away!" She lunged - aiming to thrust the sword right through the man's eye. But he was much taller and going right up - on the small circle with Alia snugly fitted against his chest. It slid smoothly out of the dias, suspended by nothing but magic

"Ask _him_." He gestured to the prone, pale figure of Dante with the elaborate sword sheath. Then the piece of circular stone floor vanished to the next level, taking Alia and the copy-cat with him.


	14. Hell Hath Made Me Born to Bleed

Teenage Girls With Cameras  
Chapter 14

Hell Has Made Me Born To Bleed

Alia's right eye was pried open; it felt like it was stuck shut with glue. Every inch of her back felt like coals scalded her skin. Something was wrong. Her body should not feel as it did in this very moment. Her eyes should not feel glued shut, her skin cracking like a pepper left to burst in embers. She was covered with a filthy sensation that she was dying and that everything in her life had amounted to a mortal death like this one.

Someone was burning her alive.

She finally managed to open both of her eyes, though it caused her great pain. Fear was trickling through her in slow waves, like a leaky faucet shut on and off. She focused on the images bubbling in and out of her vision, until finally she found a familiar countenance looking down at her. A long arm swept past her left field of vision and disappeared, but then it withdrew to the man's side.

"It's too late to kill you now," he commented quietly. "It's already too late. Your body would crumble and from the dust the Destroyer would rise again."

"What... what are yout talking about? Who are you?"

Then she understood. His face was different, the nose was too feminine, the eyes too narrow. He was someone else entirely, but most assuredly his hair was as white as Dante's and his lips were drawn into a tight frown. He wore a dark red cloak instead of a jacket and beneath that his entire body was bound in a suit composed of sewn patchwork leather and metal brass rings that jingled whenever he moved. He couldn't be older than sixteen years old. At least she could tell that much from her vision which blurred and sharpened off and on.

"Maybe I should ask you the same thing." The boy withdrew from her. He folded his arms over his chest. "In this dwelling, I felt a disturbance last night. Then I came up and saw you and your fancy accessories." He reached down toward her. She felt another prickling burning sensation that spread down to her toes. He had touched her wings.

"Stop that. It hurts."

Suddenly the white-haired stranger smiled in a sad kind of way. He brushed his hands through his shoulder-length locks. "You really don't know what's going on? Then I guess it's better that you sit back and watch the show, girl. The main event is you."

* * *

Nina pulled with all her strength on the handle of Rebellion, sweat and tears dripping down her neck and soaking into her thin shirt. _Getting Dante down from the wall is proving to be a real challenge to the whole 'rescuing Alia' thing. I can't figure out how to get up there. I've looked and prodded, but it seems like the only way to get up there is in the glass elevator, but it's broken now._

She had managed to pry the other weapons out of his body. Agni and Rudra were laying quietly on the floor, covered in Dante's blood. In the background, they quietly chatted to each other.

"What a terrible predicament!" "Indeed! I wonder if he's really dead this time?" "No, of course not, idiot! He never dies. He's taken mortal wounds like that before without a problem."

Nina strained again, planting her boot on the wall. Dante was still so pale, so still, that she was not about to trust to hope that he would ever rise again. Finally the sword made a terrible 'screek' as she moved it a fraction. Then she hauled again, putting all of her strength into her pulling shoulders, her white-knuckled hands.

Then she fell end of end, falling on her ass with Rebellion clattering across the hard stone floor with an earsplitting clarity. She winced at the stabbing pain in her tailbone that twinged as she got to her feet. Now Dante was just hanging by his feet. She wiped her face and choked down a little sob.

"Okay... I guess... I can climb up there." She walked back over and started using the demonic/angelic carvings to climb up the wall. She reached over, trying to untangle the cold chains that burned with cold at her touch. With a final snap, the nunchaku fell and so did Dante and Nina (again).

"Dammit! I'm sorry I'm sorry," she reiterated with a sob. She quickly rolled Dante's body over and straightened him out as much as possible, fixing his coat and everything. A black, slow creeping puddle of blood was pooling at the base of the statue to which he had been nailed. His skin was burning hot. His wounds swelled down and appeared to be nothing more than superficial then, but she knew that moments ago three swords had been slamming through his body and into the stone statue.

"Shit," she whispered for the fourteenth time. Her eyes stayed glued to Dante's face, her cheeks hot with tears. "Damn it! I can't wait any longer. Dante... I'm so sorry. If ... If this's the end of you, I'm sorry. I... I like you, okay? Don't be dead, or I'll be pissed."

She wiped her face one last time and shook herself so hard her head ached afterward. She stood up and retrieved Rebellion, since it was probably better that she didn't just leave it lying around. It was bizarrely heavy, as if she was in no way capable enough to wield it. She remembered so long ago, tripping over this damn thing and having begun a bizarre relationship with the dead guy on the floor. So maybe it was partly for sentimental reasons she took up the weapon and mostly for vengeance. How would Dante's murderer like it if she slammed this baby through their heart instead?

She secured it to her back with Dante's straps. It was so embarassing to be touching on his body, when he wasn't there to say or do anything to defend himself. But if she wanted to get the straps off, she had to. When she made them fit her, she sheathed the big sword and started to climb again, aiming for that elevator hole that seemed to glow with other light near the top.

She gritted her teeth when she heard voices again.

"Wait! Are you just going to leave us down here?!" cried Agni.

Rudra added plaintively, "Please take us with you!"

"I can only carry one sword, and I'm sorry, it's got to be this one. This was Dante's sword and I'm taking it! Now shut up before someone hears you both! Cry-asses," she muttered. The twin broadswords fell silent. She could almost feel them straining to watch her go up. They coached her on where to put footholds and find handholds. It was really rather quite annoying. If she stopped now and looked back to Dante, she was afraid she would jump down and stay near him until he woke up or... until something terrible happened.

At last, she was as close as she was going to get to the hole. The light falling through it was a dull yellow, making the stone near it seem to gleam golden. It was damp and every surface was slick with moisture. Her fingertips were almost scraped completely raw. She cursed that her demon blood did not give her tougher skin. She tried once to reach, clinging with her legs and free hand. Her hand slipped once. The whole room beneath her suddenly looked desolately far away and threatening to get a lot closer. Her legs burned with straining, and she cursed colorfully as her hands flailed to grab onto something to steady her again while her butt slipped from the spear of a demon encountering an angel's sword.

"Please be careful, friend of Dante!" cried one of the broadswords from far away.

She nearly shrieked, "I AM!" but swallowed her words, concentrating on her handholds. She repositioned her feet and tried to squeeze the spear between her feet and get up higher. Then she used both hands, straining to arch her back and at the same time keep herself straight. Her fingertips grabbed the edge of the hole, but she barely had any purchase at all.

She cursed again. She kept reaching anyway, wondering if her weight was just enough to snap the delicately carved demon spear and send her falling to what would be an unpleasant experience if it did not kill her immediately.

Suddenly a leathery gloved arm shot out from the hole above her and grabbed her by the wrist. It pulled her and she squeaked as she was hauled effortlessly up - whoosh! - and dropped onto the ground so quickly she was very easily disoriented.

The figure standing above her looked at her with disapproval. "Where did you think you were going? Never mind that. Why didn't you just call the other elevator?"

Nina blinked. Then she watched him press a small recessed button in the wall. Another glass elevator came whooshing from above them on the fourth floor. It stopped inches away from breaking her fingers. She stared at him in disbelief, then she started swearing at him.

"What the HELL, I didn't know there was another elevator or I would have done that, goddammit, I wasted all that time and effort!" She leapt to her feet and grabbed the red-cloaked man in her grasp and proceeded then to shake him back and forth. "Listen, weirdo, I don't care who you are, but you better tell me pronto where my friend Alia went! You're the one who took her, aren't you?! And murdered my Dante!" ('_My' Dante?)_

The man stared at her with a plainly shocked look on his face. Maybe he had expected a thank-you for the help up. But no such thing came at all. Nina was on a rampage for who had taken Alia and murdered her best friend.

"I...I am NOT!" he exclaimed, too surprised to even stop her. "I'm Nathaniel and I work here!" He stared at her with plain shock on effeminate his face. "Please stop shaking me. I don't know what you're talking about, but if you're talking about that other man, he disappeared and left that other girl here. Is SHE the one you're talking about?"

Nina blinked, then turned to follow his gaze. Alia was sitting on the floor beside a burning torch, her black wings all huddled up to her. The freckly girl looked like a tiny bird soaked after a rainstorm. She was sitting down with her dress bunched up around her legs, so her pale scrawny limbs were showing. Two Alia's left and right were two metal arches that seemed innocuous enough, and runes inscribed their surfaces. She had no idea how to read them.

"Nina, please leave him be. He was here when I woke up. He's not the same as the other man. I am quite sure that other one is Vergil Sparda. I was unconscious when he disappeared, though."

"Then who the hell is HE?" Nina demanded furiously.

"Nathaniel," the boy said again. "And I work here. I'm ... a janitor, of sorts. Although I'm not like any janitor you've ever met before."

"He's a homunculus," Alia said softly. "Homunculi aren't really alive, but I... I can definitely feel that he is."

"Where did you see the other man go, Nate?" Nina was practically wringing her hands, imagining Vergil's neck between them.

Nathaniel looked at her blankly, then lowered his eyes and swallowed. "He made me promise not to tell. But... but because I like Alia and I don't wish any harm to happen to her, I... I will tell you. Please don't let Mister Vergil hurt Alia!"

The teenager looked at Nathaniel for a long time, wondering how a homunculus could have such feelings. He LIKED Alia? Did that mean he had a soul, or he was just a lonely creation cursed to bide his time caring for this lonely miserable tower? He found a friend. That made him kind of a liability. _Great. I'm starting to think like Dante._

"You don't let anything happen to her, you understand me? Don't let her out of your sight!" Nina planted her hands on her hips, realizing just how sore her hands were. "Now... tell me, where is Vergil. I'll kick his ass for hurting my friends."

The homunculus looked around himself again, looking as though he was terribly sorry for something. It was almost unusual. He swept his hands nervously through his hair again and again, until it almost seemed to stick up, but of course it was too long. When he looked at her again, Nina was struck by the abrubt change in his personality as shown by the way he carried himself. His voice was even different now.

"What a fool. So you are Dante's..." He did not smile. Nina flinched away from him when he moved but the movement was still a blur of motion that barely registered. He had drawn his sword halfway from his cloak, slamming the pommel into her solar plexus and knocking the wind and the strength right out of her. Nina sank to the floor, her stomach heaving.

"Did you think you could save anyone? With that pathetic strain in your DNA? The only thing you inherited were your mother's eyes and your father's weakness. Neither will help you here."

_Let him keep talking_, Nina thought, trying to feel for her strength, the power in her blood rising to the surface of her skin. Strengthening her, making her faint with it. She called it closer to the surface. If she couldn't draw Rebellion to defend herself, maybe she could pull her own weapon faster. The familiar tickle started in her fingertips, spreading over her knuckles and palm. She dared not supplicate him for mercy, in case he decided to silence her by cutting her to ribbons. She lowered her head instead and focused on trying to breathe. She lay at his feet, wheezing.

He turned away from her, advancing on Alia. "The Destroyer... a Guardian of the Shadow Realm. Once awakened, it will open a tear in the world large enough for me to return through. I don't have the energy to expend on a wastrel like you."

Alia shivered like a wet hatchling and she shrank away from Vergil as he walked toward her in the homunculus's body. It was all clear to Nina now. What Alia had seen wasn't Dante or Vergil - it was Nathaniel the guardian homunculus of this tower. Through some weird means Nina could not begin to guess, Vergil had possessed the homunculus and was using him to initiate some stupid ritual that would awaken something called the Destroyer - whose very presence would rip open a hole to the realm of devils.

Apparently that's where Vergil was and that was why Dante never talked about his brother anymore. It was as good as a death sentence. Nina pulled herself upright as quietly as she could, her entire center feeling like it was going to burst apart. But when she tried to call out the sword in her skin, it would not come. She began to feel the panic rising. So she reached back to feel Rebellion's unfamiliar, heavy, worn handle and readied herself to pull it as quickly as she could.

_It's too tall_, something whispered. _It won't come out smoothly, it will make too much noise, he'll have a fraction of a second more speed on every move you make._

_But it's for Dante_, she insisted silently. The Vergil-homunculus took three more steps with his red cloak whooshing behind him. The blood in her veins sang, her skin erupted like armor beneath her clothes. She pulled Rebellion free and rushed at Vergil. _This could be one of the stupidest things I have ever done, second only to breaking into Devil May Cry._

Metal banged against metal like a crack of a lightning bolt. The sword in Vergil's hand turned white hot from the pressure. Nina pushed against it, her entire body bent toward breaking through him and waves of tension shook her legs and arms and back. The face staring back at her was cool and collected.

Finally, Vergil saw the state of his own weapon and made the slightest crease in his forehead showing his concern. His was clearly not a weapon designed for such passionate encounters; with mere seconds between now and the moment his sword shattered, he sidestepped, but she matched it immediately, trying to keep him occupied until... until what?

She fell backward a step and sent her foot out toward his groin. The blow sent him knocked back a step and their swords parted, but the blow apparently had little effect otherwise. He stared at her as if wondering if she really did have a brain after all for only a hairsbreadth of time before he slashed diagonally from where his swordpoint had been relaxed near the floor. She swayed out of its reach while feinting the blow, then darted toward him, using her own demon's strength to fuel her attacks. The heavy Rebellion was awkward; she was much shorter than Dante and though the homunculus Vergil was a little taller, he was just as quick and most of his attacks came closer to hitting her than hers did hitting him. Each swing of Rebellion was enough to disrupt her center of balance, so she was limited to very few movements and soon Vergil would become impatient enough to stop playing with her and finish her for good.

Maybe the instinct was right; she wasn't skilled enough to fight. She had spent her time at Devil May Cry trying to be what she wasn't, and now that she had a chance to prove her worth she was once again too little, too late.

Don't think about that now, moron! Fight him! Whatever's going on, he's got to be stopped either way!

"Alia, run away!" she screamed. "Get into the elevator and go down, get Dante out of here back to the shop! AH!" The next sword slash cut deep; blood spurted through the sections of thin, bug-like demon plating covering her bicep. Now lifting Rebellion was even harder.

When Alia was not crying out or even bothering to help - a little well-aimed fiery death beam wouldn't have hurt - Nina chanced to look at her. Her black wings were spreading out around her, illuminated by an umbra of dark, garish energy. It gave everything around her a deep faded green glow. She was going to use her power, but something about it was wrong this time. The light shining from her didn't hurt Nina's eyes.

The metal arches pulsated and thrummed to life, then cracked with energy; two beams suddenly raced toward Alia, slamming into her and latching onto the aura radiating from her body. They seemed to hook onto her and flicker and pulsate, thickening as Alia began to scream.

The only way to stop Vergil was to find out how this ritual was going to take place.

Nina stopped and stared. And then Vergil rushed in and impaled her in the belly, the hot sword breaking off at the hilt from the motion and she screamed too. He pulled Rebellion from her limp fingers and tossed it aside.

"Please stop Mister Vergil from hurting Alia," Vergil mimed in a perfect Nathaniel voice, his eyes glistening with victory and something almost kind of like joy. Nina hated the way he looked at her, then looked to Alia, watching the spectacular clash of purple energy with the brilliance beaming from the metal arches.

Nina fell to the floor, blood pouring from between her hands where she tried to grip the snapped-off blade buried in her stomach.

The pain was indescribable. Every breath she took made her diaphragm flare up as if it were on fire, and no breath could even get into her lungs, the whole process interrupted by the thin metal sheath thrust through the muscles used to do the job. She looked at Vergil, then at Alia, who was struggling, half-raised off the floor. Something was pulling her wings from her. Or maybe trying to pull something out - because she saw something attached to the wings coming out of her back, no longer coming out of her shoulders. It was a second set of shoulders now. They seemed half-formed, transparent, and composed almost entirely of the kind of darkness that made a night-time in the middle of nowhere seem like midday. A muscled shoulder broke free. A spinal column delineated with jagged spikes split Alia's dress apart. It was birthing right out of Alia's body like it was just a cocoon.

The fabric of space seemed to tremble and shudder, making everything Nina saw ripple like the surface of a puddle. Or maybe it was blood loss. Either way, she was losing consciousness with every attempt to draw in air. The homunculus suddenly went rigid and fell to the ground, clattering like a plastic doll, its sightless eyes turned toward the heavens as if waiting for another miracle.

* * *

Lady saw the black lightning cut across the dawn sky and felt it was somehow Dante's fault. When she got to the office, seeing nobody home, she immediately got changed, armed herself to the teeth, and headed back out, following the pattern of the stormclouds. They got darker, nastier, and angrier the closer she got to the memorial tower. Her motorcycle revved to an earsplitting pitch as she dove through traffic to reach it. _Where did all these damn cars come from? _she thought angrily.

"Get out of the fucking way, asshole!" she screamed to everyone at once and no one in particular.

When she reached the tower itself, she approached the door. It was enscribed with the words:

"Woe to man and devil;

The Destroyer comes."

Lady pulled two pistols from their holsters and shoved her shoulder against the double doors. They gave unexpectedly on the third try, and she stumbled inside; the very walls here were bleeding, and the illusion was so complete she was fairly sure she could smell the coppery stink of it. She ignored it all and sped headlong toward the stairs, reaching the elevator. The floor was thick with broken glass which crunched under her knee-high boots. When she smacked the button and waited, ten, fifteen seconds, the cable-operated elevator car did not come. She holstered her pistols and elected to use Kalina Ann - she had stolen it from Dante's cupboard - and used the gatling hook to lift her up through the hole.

She had been prepared to see some destruction, but not the amount of blood on the floor. There was no sign of anyone; there was a strange circular dias on the floor and something in the middle seemed missing. The statues and carvings all along the walls were trembling, sending dust to the floor.

"What... is going on? Dante?"

She turned back to the elevator and looked up, grimacing as she realized her situation. Everything, all along the walls, was starting to move. The effigies of angels and devils twitched and started to flex muscles carved from stone, gaining color to their grayish-white figures. Wings bristling with feathers began to arch and fan the air.

Half a dozen of the figures detached from the walls and circled three times before they began to dive, all of them making a direct shot for Lady. The woman smiled, her heart beginning to race even harder. This was what she was born for - ever since that dreadful day.

The first figure swung a scythe on its first pass, landed, then took an explosive grenade round right to the face. Diving and rolling, flipping out of reach of those lethal edges, Lady fired from her pistols next, but the bullets pinged off harmlessly as armored angels swept past with swords swinging.

She used the pillars to her advantage, opting for her clip-loaded shotgun. It was risky; waiting until they were almost on top of her for maximum effectiveness brought them almost too close for comfort. However, compared to her other options left her a bit breathless from moving around so much.

The worst part was counting the number of figures breaking free of the walls. It did not take too much quick math to estimate how many bullets she would need (and didn't have) to send them all back to wherever they originated from.

After a minute and a half of dodging, rolling, spinning out of the way of lethal swords and sharpened edges, she noticed the rhythem of battle had changed - she was watching demons and angels falling from the sky that weren't her targets. She was so busy fighting her own battles she failed to notice someone else had joined.

She stepped back against a pillar and heard a familiar voice chide her, "I've been next to you this whole time and you didn't even say hello. Tsk, tsk."

"Dante!" She circled around the pillar, leaping onto the back of an angel before planting her foot firmly on its head and firing a bullet into its neck. She tumbled off and felt her shoulder crackle a little as she rolled too carelessly.

The smirking bastard walked up to her. Figures collapsed to the floor together, their bodies tangled together and breaking from the fall, stone again.

"You didn't bother to look for the one with the red eye in its forehead; the one that controls them all." He pulled her to her feet by the hand. He looked a little unlike himself - his skin was too pale! - but there was a livid glow in his eyes, a look that Lady knew all too well. His hold was slipping on that something which lurked there behind those beautiful baby blues. Something was on his mind, weighing in heavier than usual. _But in my line of business, you learned not to ask about stuff in the middle of a job; you wait till its over before you have heart-to-heart chats._

"Someone's throwing a party upstairs and I haven't been invited. You know me; I better go ahead an' invite myself. You'd better sit this one out, Lady." He looked at her for a moment, then turned away. So casually, he pressed the call button for the elevator and a second one came down from above. He climbed in and waited 'til he shot upward to the third floor.

The devil hunter disappeared upstairs, while Lady was considering following. It was going to be a messy day; she was already covered in dust; the smell of blood was nowhere to be found in the room. She stared at the man-shaped blood spot on the floor, choking on a realization. The devil's own son could survive anything, could live through any greivious injury. He was immortal in a way that Lady could not even begin to measure. How much can he really take? In other words, what would it take to actually kill a son of Sparda?

Dante emerged into chaos. He felt something 'snap' into place around him as soon as he entered the third floor. The air stank of the Devil World like there was an enormous draft blowing through an open gate from that world itself.

It was opening between two arches; they were burning flaming with searing heat. The flames themselves licked at the looming deep darkness, creating more menacing leaping shadows on the walls. Between the demonic arches, there was the gateway to Hell itself; the landscape was as varied as earth's own, but the scene on which this one opened was bone-white and spread for miles and miles... and a hundred thousand demons were prowling there. Their heads were raised and they saw the gateway tearing open slowly from their side. It was as tall as a doorway and growing larger. The sight itself was nothing as compared to the infernal noise of Hell - endless screaming, roaring, groaning, tearing, ripping, crunching, howling, all happening at once. For now, the noise was far away as though from a great distance and growing louder.

Hell was coming closer.

On the floor lay a life-sized doll or mannekin or something. He gave it a kick to push it aside, then stared at the other body laying next to it which belonged to none other than Nina. She was laying on her side in a puddle of new blood, her hands bunched up against her belly. Poking out the back of her leather coat was the point of a sword.

Dante swallowed hard. His entire throat felt like it was stuck with a huge stone, and somehow his heart was hammering in his chest, his arms tingling all over He knelt down and reached for the gore-covered point of metal. He pulled it out and wiped the blood on his jeans. It was tucked away up his sleeve. Then he scooped Nina right up in both arms and smooched her on the forehead.

"Hey, kid," he said to her softly. "I'm going to take care of this. Just sit tight." He set her back down by the elevator and straightened his back, his eyes softly glinting red for just a moment in the light. "This will just take a minute."

The gateway to hell was blocked by an enormous winged thing; it looked cut from a large black piece of cloth but was enormous. Its screams were like a thousand engines trying to turn over, screaming into impossible pitches, and its entire body reeked of the Demon world. Beneath it, Alia was laying on the floor, shuddering and crying and forgotten. The Destroyer was still attached to her by less than half of what Dante was going to assume was its body.

Its freakish body lacked any definable characteristics other than a humanoid shape and enormous feathered black wings. Twin horns curved from its nondescript head. The wings passed harmlessly through the arches as they moved back and forth with every strain the Destroyer made to be free. It twisted its body this way and that, and beneath it was still Alia, shuddering and mindlessly aware of every agony the movements caused her.

"The Destroyer, huh? Not much to look at, are you?" He nosed the toe of his boot under the hilt of Rebellion where it was on the floor and flipped it - it arced skyward, spinning like a blurring propeller blade. He caught it effortlessly.

"Real sorry to interrupt," he added as he walked up quickly to the dias, through the storm of demonic energies whipping his hair and his coat into a frenzy. "I just need to borrow her for a minute." He reached down, grabbing Alia's arm close to her shoulder and pulling her out from between the arches.

The Destroyer screamed louder than the combined howls and screams of Hell, shaking the very foundations of the tower itself; it twisted its body toward the disturbance, following the movements of Dante with two points of deep crimson energy where ordinary eyes would be. It had no voice but the one it was born with, and communicated its outrage with a second noise. It sounded an awful lot like "Ssssppardaaa!"

Half of its body stopped at its waist; the other half was missing. Alia was limp, but with surprising recovery she latched onto Dante and held onto him, her hair whipping about just as wildly as Dante's.

"Don't let it come out any more... don't let it... be free. It will destroy everything! The ancient devils of Hell, even before Sparda, created the Destroyer... and fearing its power of corruption and death, they sealed it away because if it was let loose, it would destroy even the Demon World before it escaped to earth! I didn't know, Dante! I had no idea it was ME! I'm sorry!"

The poor girl was pretty distraught; maybe she found all this out when she felt the Destroyer start to emerge - pouring her full of information to let her know exactly why she was about to be obliterated to give birth to the one creature that could potentially put an end to everyone's problems for good. The Destroyer was a manifestation of all hate, all hopelessness, all hunger. It would crush everything to dust until there was nothing left to crush, then it would consume the world. Another name for it was the Devourer.

"So you're a real party crasher. But I think you've really overstayed your welcome." He directed this comment to the Destroyer and not, in fact, to Alia. To her, he said, "You should let go of me now." He smiled and winked at her. Absolutely confused by his nonchalant attitude in the face of absolute destruction, the freckled girl let go of his jacket sleeve and merely sat down next to Nina.

Then she had no other words, watching the son of Sparda approach the still-opening gate of Hell framing the monumentous winged shadow that had caused even demons to tremble, before they trembled at the name of Sparda. The half-Destroyer clawed at the stone floor to reach Dante, as if the youthful hedonistic fool had been the first target by default. There was a small (by comparison) explosion of crimson light, leaving a smear of Dante on her retina. Where Dante was walking was another demon. It was Dante. Now armored in his Devil form, he rushed headlong with the point of Rebellion aimed to spear the Destroyer through its deadly wicked middle.

Even at half of its full size, the Destroyer was formidable. It had enormous range with its taloned long arms and its wings showered poison and steel feather needles wherever Dante's Devil form darted. He was too fast for normal eyes to follow. The only witness was Alia, and even her sight was challenged enough without her glasses, which had long since been crushed to pieces in all the chaos.

It seemed at first that every movement Dante made was as chaotic as the noise and motions of the Destroyer. The Destroyer would strike out, screaming, sending pieces of the ceiling crashing down. Dante would move out of the way, rolling for his life to avoid being crushed by them. Then he would move in, always a second ahead, and take a deadly chance moving so close to the fiend. A brilliance shower of black and red sparks would ensue from wherever Dante's sword struck, then he would dive away, toward the glowing arches. The Destroyer would be stunned for a hairsbreadth, then scream in pain.

What was Dante doing by the arches to cause such a reaction?

Then, squinting, Alia noticed it: when he rolled to the arches, he stuck his blade out and cut into the archway. Her eyes watered every time Rebellion made contact with it; it sent up a blinding light... and the Destroyer was screaming every time, as if it caused it pain.

With these random passes being made, the arches were being cut down - because they tied the Destroyer to this world while it was being born. And as if to prove it, one of the arches tipped to one side and shattered on a seventh pass. At the same time, Dante shimmered into view - dropping the Devil Trigger just as soon as it ran out.

The Destroyer shrank into itself, raising such a noise that Alia's hands shot up to cover her ears. The sound struck her to her very core - it was filled with unequal sadness and rage.

Dante stood passively by, watching as the Destroyer reached out, seizing hold of the last arch as if it was its only hope to remain. It looked at Dante with strange and oppressive silence. Then the vacuum of Hell pulled the Destroyer backwards through the open gateway, into the windswept, bone-strewn landscape of Hell.

It was then that Dante noticed a figure walking through the desert itself. It was a blurry and quivering with the likeness of a mirage; the man-shaped figure stopped when the Destroyer came barreling through the vortex. It must have looked as though the ruined beast had appeared out of nowhere, flying through the air at a monumentous velocity. With a quick, expert motion the man drew a sword and severed the Destroyer in half again on its way past. The shadowy being fell to the ground, vanishing into the bones.

Then the figure moved forward again purposefully, seeing the window with a view into the tower.

When it started shrinking, the figure in the desert burst forward into an all-out sprint - the sky on the other side was a turmoil of colors, like a blender of flesh and tissue.

Dante stared, gripping his sword in his hand tightly; the amulet he typically wore around his neck was glinting a brilliant crimson in the supernatural daylight.

The man in Hell continued running, but the opening was growing smaller and smaller. Not a demon had dared approach the gate this way, since the Destroyer was most assuredly waiting on the other side to devour them.

"How did you do it?" Dante wondered out loud. "Did you find something over there to give you a hand, brother?"

Across countless miles and yet right in front of him, an identical Dante was charging across the sand, and seeing the human world of light closing on him, screamed, "NO!" He was so close, Dante could see the fury and pain written all over Vergil's face. It was the last thing Dante ever wanted to see.

Without really thinking, Dante reached forward as he stood in front of the doorway. It was now only about as tall and wide as a normal door. The edges rippled and coalesced with reality. Vergil jumped... then the sand and the fleshy sky and the floating sun that glowed with no warmth vanished altogether.

Dante dropped his hand and stood very, very still.

"Maybe next time," he said softly. Something bright and shiny and probably without consequence dripped to the floor. He turned just in time to see Lady coming up after him. There was debris and stone and dust collected all over the floor. The air thrummed with the deep, deep quiet.

"Are we okay?" Lady wanted to know as she crouched beside the two girls, seeing the strangest look on Dante's face. He looked at her blankly like he hadn't heard her. "Dante?"

He shook himself very slightly. "Yeah. We're okay for now." He walked back over, slipping Rebellion back into its sheath. It was still glowing from hitting the arches, warm all over. If anyone touched it, it would've burned them.

He scooped up Nina. She wasn't bleeding so much anymore. Alia was hiding her face in her hands. Then she wriggled herself over to the doll laying not so far away, half-buried beneath a piece of ceiling. "Nathaniel... he was the one designed to look after this place. He was the caretaker. Vergil found a way to get inside him and control him superficially. He was still stronger than you somehow."

"That's what living in the demon world does to you," Dante grumbled, ignoring the unmoving doll for now. He checked Nina over. Her belly was almost healed over. He kept talking as he pushed some of Nina's hair out of her face. "No matter how hard you try, a person can end up just as fucked up as the real demons living in there." His eyes had hardened a lot, guarding some emotion he would doubtless vent some other time - out of their sight and in the company of his own kind.

Lady expected the look to stay on his face the whole way home. He had driven in his car here, while Lady had taken her motorcycle. They went down two at a time in the elevator; the wooden double doors gently closed behind them on their way out to the car. Alia shivered in her seat next to Dante; Lady would ride behind them. Nina crumpled into the front passenger seat without moving, eyes closed tightly with pain.

"Are you all right?" Alia whispered to her friend. "You... you did so good coming to rescue me, Nina. So please don't die, or... or I'll be very angry. O-Okay?"

After navigating the light, early morning traffic, Dante double-parked the car in front of Devil May Cry and walked a half-conscious Nina up the steps and over to the large brown sofa, sitting her into it. It was a familiar sight, seeing her all banged up and on his sofa, but there weren't any ropes and duct tape this time. He didn't have the time to think about what the hell Lady and Alia were doing, but if he had to guess, Lady was taking Alia up to her own little apartment and spending the night up there. That seemed to be the unspoken plan.

The Destroyer was gone forever now; as soon as it had been sucked into Hell, Alia's body suddenly felt... lighter. In fact, if she could say she felt anything, it was a hollowness that was a relief, an infection of her soul that had disappeared. Cleansed of the Destroyer, Alia would not realize until later that the Destroyer was the entire reason she had any power to begin with. Maybe Vergil sensed it inside of her but had no idea what it was. But... it was gone now.

Not that it mattered. Dante left his weapons by the kitchen door before he went in and popped open a case of beer to suck down while he sat by restless Nina in the armchair. His eyes were heavy but all in all, he wasn't about to shut his eyes to sleep. With so much on his mind - Vergil, Nina's near-death date with the business end of a sword, the Destroyer...

He sucked down one beer after another, hoping that there was enough in the entire twenty-four pack to get him remarkably trashed, but of course, as always, he needed just one more beer - a beer he didn't have - to reach that climax.

The day was breaking through his ruddy curtains, daylight eroding away the darkness in the city he called his home. How fucked up was it that he had an entire waking day to deal with everything else?


	15. Just A Kiss

**Teenage Girls With Cameras  
Chapter 15**

* * *

A couple hours after Dante lamented not having that one last drink to get him vaguely tipsy, he decided it was probably better off that Nina get upstairs to a proper bed. She was not resting well on the sofa, tossing and turning so much he was anxious about her scar busting and her blood getting everywhere. So he picked her up and carried her upstairs. His room was a hell of a lot closer and blood wasn't altogether a major concern when it came to his sheets. They needed a good long soak in an incinerator's flames (the odd stain notwithstanding). He placed her on the bed and stopped a second, leaning over her just to get a good look at her injury. He hadn't noticed it before, but there was a shallow scar on her upper arm. It was not deep enough to lame the arm, but it was enough to be a hindrance for a few days.

Then he was rewinding the last few hours and trying to piece it all together. He had walked in to the room after getting out of the elevator and saw the strange room with the cornucopia of demons and angels waging a silent, invisible war. He was too busy admiring the decor when he heard the whisper of metal out of his vision. He spun, saw the red-cloaked figure that wore Vergil's every expression so masterfully it made Dante doubt whether it was a fake. The battle waged was nothing short of epic. Every swordstroke, every step, every movement, the silent marionette with the sword cut Dante's defenses to nothing. It was artwork in motion; Dante was a whirlwind of power and decisive straight-forward action most of the time.

He was defeated. Of course. Then he had gone to sleep for what felt like a long time, had a very bizarre dream of a wide, open room with no windows and a chair in the center where there sat a figure in blue, watching him. He was so angry he threw his sword at the figure and pierced him through the chest. The room disappeared and he heard a voice heralding him from the infinite shadows, saying words and words. The words were robbed of their meaning since he was so close to death.

Then he woke up and found himself on the floor.

Alia had said the same thing to him not long afterward to Nina as she lay in the car on the way home. "Please don't be dead, or I'll be very angry!" The words were almost word-for-word. Oh yes. He was definitely semi-alert during that miserable time when he'd been nailed through to the wall. Nina had bent over his bleeding, fucked-up body and whispered them as endearingly and softly as though she loved him. It made him feel weak and funny and stupid, because he didn't know what to do or say back to her. All he knew...

All he knew for sure was how the figure in blue and the girl Nina were going to end up one and the same. And so, so stupid was Nina! _ Of course_, he thought. _Of course she'll go off fighting something bigger than her, thinking I'm dead. She was going to do something noble and pointless, like get killed for petty revenge. For me. Tch!_

She was absolutely amazing. Only he was allowed to do anything like that and she had done it anyway, a reckless heroine risking her head for a half-demon. Somehow, it amazed him less than it angered him. Then it actually sunk in: she could have seriously died. She was no descendent of Sparda. A blow like that could have destroyed her. Dante was filled by the poisonous horror of it, and it made the beer in his stomach start to sour.

He took off her jacket, rolled it up and tossed it into the hamper for whatever. He sat on the edge of the bed and lifted her shirt slowly, looking at the rapid healing occuring on her belly. The sword had sank clean through her flesh, spearing her right through her middle. But it neither clipped her spine on the way out nor hit any ribs, and at the same time it had somehow narrowly missed any vital organs. It seemed a monumental stroke of carelessness on Vergil's part. Or was it intentional?

Rough calloused fingertips moved across her belly in little circular formations while he considered the possible explanation. Vergil never missed, except maybe if he was pitted against Dante. With anyone else, it was absolutely unthinkable. Might he have known who Nina was? Then he should have killed her outright, just to crush Dante even more. If he hadn't known, he would have swept her aside like an unwanted pawn in his game for power all the same. What had actually stayed Vergil's hand then? His brother, near the end of his time on earth, was not known for his mercy and warm fuzzy feelings.

It didn't bug him that much. In fact, in a grudging way, he was thankful for whatever had caused Vergil to 'spare' Nina. She was in shock now, that was all. Not to say it was 'no harm, no foul'. He was still pissed at Vergil and mildly irate with her for getting involved.

_Why did you drag her along then, dumbass?_ he asked himself somewhere in the back of his mind.

Nina stirred and moaned softly, and his fingertips stopped moving. He hadn't realized how the whole time he'd been thinking, his fingertips were still going in that slow, slow motion. His eyes locked onto her face, pulling his hand back and squeezing it into a fist.

"Dante?" Her voice was all full of fear.

He grinned quickly. "Don't move or anything. You're fine. Just lay up a while and don't do any more stupid heroics for my sake. Okay?"

"Dante!" Her hands shot up before he realized what she was even scared about. He took it for granted that not a few people could go through what he had and come away without so much as a single scar on their skin. He had been run through three times and rung out like a friggin' washcloth once Vergil got the drop on him. He could be shot in the forehead and spit the bullet out a second later with little more than a headache for the shooter's pains. He just did not think about such things anymore. He was more than a man, he was almost a god. Lady never worried but she was exasperated by his recklessness all the same, annoyed with his bouts of hedonism. She never cried out in womanly concern over his blood being spilled, because it was gone before she could even raise an eyebrow.

Understandably it was kind of a shock when Nina started feeling him over. He did not understand in the least what was going on until he found some sense in her hands' direction. Her cold hands on his shoulders almost make him squeak. She touched his bare chest for the scar that would never be there, then reached under his coat for his back. He "umph"-ed when she pulled him down to reach his back more, frantic in her search. Her scent startled him. It was blood and musk and shampoo from that morning and the dust of the tower that he smelled. He wondered if her skin would be any different.

Flustered at himself, he growled, "Damn it. I thought I told you not to move."

"Dante! You're okay. You're seriously fine? You're not a ghost or anything?" She pushed him back and looked at him.

"Do I feel like a ghost? Maybe you should start calling me Casper." He took so much for granted. Maybe joking around with her about his untimely not-demise was not really the kindest thing to do. She pinched his skin - pretty damn hard! - and hissed in a dissatisfied chick way. Then she hugged him tightly and he was trapped on top of her, drowning in her warmth and so struck with gladness that she too was alive that, for another one of those rare moments, he had nothing else smart-assed to say.

Her eyes were wet when he managed to pull back. Her movements were still stiff, but when he surreptitiously checked her stomach again it was fine. She was just trembling so badly he couldn't get a good look, and he wasn't about to feel her up to get a decent look for her scar. He shifted a bit since he had no reason to be this close, looking anywhere but into her eyes while she looked up at him in turmoil.

It was so hard not to look, and something in those pathetic eyes of her begged to be comforted. The sun beamed heavenly through his yellowed dingy curtains and lit up her reddish-brown hair. He bent closer, leaning weight on his hand on the mattress. Then he brushed his lips over hers with a gradual intensity. Something hungry in her soft lips answered him.

He pulled back with a little jerk. It was hard not to whisper in this weird moment, hiding his head against her neck as he murmured, "Sorry. That... That was a mistake." _Stupid_. He just froze, his hand sliding behind the back of her head. Why was he still doing it if it was such a mistake? _She's just a kid._

Whatever reason, it could not be too bad. She was very wisely staying very still just like he said, but moving her arms so she could hold him in place. Only her head moved, so when she brushed her lips against his neck, his entire retinue of excuses shriveled up like tissue paper in a fireball of desire. The devil hunter felt his neck muscles turn to rubber and he buried his face against the pillow, stifling a tiny moan.

"What are you doing?" he muffled, his fingers growing taut in her hair. "Please... stop... Stop, Nina."

Those clever damned lips quit at once. But he could still feel her breath cooling the dampened skin. A quiver betrayed his discomfort and his icy blue eyes rose to gauge how she was feeling about all of this. He was met by a smoky, confused look.

_I like you_, she had said. _So please don't be dead._

"I'm glad you were worried about me," he said thickly. He brushed his thumb over her lips; she kissed it quickly and blushed. He tried to compose himself again. "Listen to me. Damn it, I forgot what I was gonna say. Thanks a lot." He gave her a disapproving look.

"Kiss me again," she said very quietly, blushing. "Then I'll go to sleep, okay? And-" Nina quickly removed her arms from around him; something in him protested, but he told that wounded guy part of himself to shut the hell up. "Will you stay here right next to me?"

Dante Sparda hardly knew what to do with THAT. It was easier when she just did the stupid stuff that she did and he cleaned up after it like always, but when she elected him to get involved it changed the whole number. She was telling him he could do what he was aching to do; he was already half-demon so whatever he did, he would burn in Hell. But like Vergil, he had his dignity and honor and he wasn't about to bespoil this teenage girl because she was overwhelmed with emotions and could only express gratitude by lip-locking!

She must have started thinking his answer was no when he wasn't answering and just looking for a way out of here. She quickly grew solemn and looked away. "Never mind."

Now he was the bad guy all over again.

"Just a kiss," he told her and as soon as he said it he knew it was going to be a lie.

"Just a kiss." She quickly blushed again.

He shifted on over to the other side of her. Suddenly he was kissing her earlobe, brushing her hair out of the way, then kissing her neck, her pulse jumping under his lips, her heart pounding giddily at the way his tongue darted against her soft skin. It was better than playing a dangerously screechy loud guitar riff at three-a.m. on a weekday on the rooftop. She was careful because of her scar, but he could tell that it frustrated her to be forced to stay still. In an innocent way, she just wanted to be near him - nearer than she was ever permitted by anyone.

It was kind of sweet, because he was never so gentle with anyone. He could never just 'make out' with anyone, either, because his body demanded so much out of everything. He was really deeply concerned that his own hunger would outpace his restraint. He would never do anything to hurt anyone. Even - no, especially Nina. Doing anything like that would drive her away, and damn it, he was loathe and happy to admit that being around her made him happy.

Nothing about Nina was boring. Not being with her, hanging out with her, or especially going out getting into retardedly dangerous situations. But he had never been so scared to see Nina all curled up like a kicked puppy bleeding out her stomach. He was cold with anger and helplessness during those few seconds when he thought she was really dead.

So he kissed her just one more time, because he knew if she did something idiotic like... like try to get revenge for a dumbass like him, he might never get the chance to do it again.

This was a dangerous game to be playing. He knew the jealousy in her eyes when he kissed the demon disguising as a human at her school was very real, and he had been very reckless with her feelings back then. It was that and so much more.

She made small, tiny little noises when he kissed at the base of her neck, his eyes closing when he dared to suckle on a piece of skin just a little.

"D...Dante," Nina squeaked. She buried her fingers in his hair, her back arching just a fraction. She was holding back and the effort made her quiver.

"S-Sorry." Slow down, cowboy. "Do you want me to stop?"

"P-Please. If you expect me to hold still through that, you're sorely mistaken." She still spoke with a little sleepy drawl, and it drove him nuts at how cute it sounded. He could almost taste the way she was feeling in the air.

"Do you want some water?" he offered lamely. "I want to go get some."

With equal lameness, she answered, "Okay."

A bit clumsily, he climbed off the bed and walked to the door, rubbing a hand over his face and mouth. He was stubbornly ignoring the ache in his body, the gravity he felt pulling him back to her. Stupid.

"Dante!" Nina cried pathetically. He turned and looked back at her, waiting while she took him in, his coat, his clothes, his entire being. Satisfied, she smiled apologetically. "It's okay now, I just... well, I wanted to make sure. That you were okay for real."

"I'm okay for real," he told her in a joking stuffy tone. Then he grinned at her and headed downstairs for the water.

In fact, the water was just an excuse to get out of the room, away from the way she looked at him so blatantly, away from the hands that were just minutes ago touching all over him. He ached to be touched more. But he was thinking more and more about things that had gone on. It was Vergil in Hell he was thinking about. About the way he was treated, the way women acted around him. Nina would never stand for another woman looking at Dante and women WILL look, and they'll talk for hours about how he used to be reckless with his body in other ways.

He stood at the kitchen sink with a glass before he realized the water had been running for a long time now. He filled the glass, drank it down, refilled it again. He willed himself to face her with a better state of mind.

Then his front door opened and he didn't have to. Lady walked in, a cup of coffee in her hand, a bleary-annoyed look wrinkling the little scar on her nose and between her fine eyebrows.

"So?" she asked without any preamble.

"She's already healing, but it's going to leave a couple nasty scars."

"Are you happy now?"

"I'm a bit slow in the morning, so you're gonna have to explain that." He felt his anger rising, an irrational feeling of annoyance for her even standing there in his house.

"You're impossible, Dante. Honestly." She looked livid, setting down the coffee with a rather loud thump that made the devil hunter flinch, fearing it would be heard to even Nina. Was her hearing that good? "I should have come straight to you from the start. I told you a couple of weeks ago about it, but I should've been a bit more blunt for that thick fucking skull of yours." Her voice was rising, and she took a breath to calm herself.

Dante looked at her with calm, deadly restraint.

"You care about her a lot."

Dante waited impartially. He even did his best to make himself look disinterested in whatever it was she had to say.

"She's going to follow you straight to her death and you don't seem to care?"

The man stiffened all through his back. "I think you care about her more than I do. Or are you just jealous?" He smirked, plying to get her riled enough to forget what she was going to say... dreading that her words would ring true.

"Don't you dare make this about me! When are you going to kick her out? I didn't say anything when you brought her here, but you can't keep indulging her all the time."

"Indulging?"

"The way you look at her, talk to her, joke with her and all that! It makes her crazy in love with you and that isn't healthy for her, considering the type of shit you get into. If you had any heart at all, you'd push her out of your life and let her move forward with hers."

He grimaced and cursed. She was angry because Nina had gotten hurt and he was a damn fool to think she would not waste a minute to come down her and rip him a new one for it. But this wasn't just the usual Lady tiff. She was pissed. Her cheeks were bright red and those funky eyes blazed.

He let some of his fury spill into his own face. "She doesn't mean anything to me," he choked through his teeth. "She's just a damn kid anyway." _It's because I have a heart that I keep her close. Imagine where she'd be without me. _But he had to sell this, to run Lady off, to satisfy her. He walked over to her and grabbed her by the chin, smiling into her pouting face. "So what if I mess with her head a little? When I get bored, she'll be gone and you can have your Dante back."

No matter how rehearsed it felt, Lady believed it because she slapped him hard enough to rattle the dishes in the cupboards. Then she punched him in the other side of the head. His ears ringing, he barely heard her, "The first one is for saying such a mysoginistic thing. The second is for lying through your teeth. You're not a bad man, Dante. But you're fucking selfish."

She snagged her coffee from the desk and stormed out of the front door, but halfway through leaving, she turned and stared at him. He kept smiling all the same, even through the physical abuse. Lady's eyes were pinpointed on his face, and he did not trust the way they narrowed. What she saw, she never said, but she shut the door behind her and went around the house to go upstairs to Alia's apartment.

He waited for a full thirty seconds before he let the tension drain out of his back and the smile fade from his lips. He never felt like such a shit in his life. But he knew in his heart what he said was not true.

Lady knew more about him than he realized. He just wanted to ignore it until it became a problem again. He brought the glass of water upstairs, and cursed when he saw Nina on her side now, facing away from the door. He sniffed quietly and smelled no blood.

"Miss me?" he drawled tiredly as he walked around to the front of her. She cocked her head to sip the water and laid her head down again with a grunt.

"I thought I heard Lady yelling."

"She's mad at me." He watched her drink a bit more. Then he set the glass aside and pulled up a wooden chair from the corner of the room. He sat on it backwards, leaning his arms across the backrest. "So what else is new? Uh, how are you feeling?"

"My belly hurts and when I rolled over, I thought I was gonna throw up."

"Tch. Well, that's what you get."

"Well, Lady was hollering and I was tired of hearing it."

"Imagine how I feel. I got to hear it every day from her point blank, almost. Still do." He tried not to let on that Lady's words had actually bothered him for once. He looked away, toward the clock. It was getting brighter outside and all he wanted was to pull the shades and bathe the world in cool darkness.

"I'm okay, Dante. I'll be fine by this afternoon, so she shouldn't stay upset for too long." She rubbed her belly a little bit under her shirt. "So... yay. Um. The Destroyer is gone and we saved the world from absolute destruction. I think I deserve to call in sick today for work."

"You should quit your job."

"Huh?" Nina looked absolutely dumb-founded. "Why?"

"I'm going to start training you."

"What?" This time, she actually moved a bit to get a better look at his half-hidden face. "Train me? Like, with swords?" Her heart skipped a beat.

"I'm not gonna waste time and effort trying to make you make the right decisions when I should just prepare you for when you want to make the wrong ones." He shook his head, confused for a second. He gathered his thoughts. "Listen... I can't protect you all the time. The things that hunt me... are nothing compared to what could come up again."

"Well...." The only highlight of her day was seeing Dante, so she could honestly answer 'no' but at the same time, she yearned to be normal again. "But Dante, I can't do any of the stuff that you do. I almost broke my friggin' back climbing the stupid elevator thing."

"You CLIMBED?"

"I didn't know about the other elevator, okay? Jesus, I had to be the last fucking person to know about it." She rolled her eyes and flopped onto her back and froze, expecting the agony to return, slamming through her stomach. A second later she relaxed; no pain. She was healing more and more. It was scary... and the memory of pain was still so fresh. "A-Anyway, I can't."

"Sure you can. You'll just suck a bit less than you do right now." He grinned boyishly at her, reaching out and tousling her hair. She grabbed his arm and yanked on it, pulling him forward. The chair fell forward and he slipped onto the bed over her.

"You're a cow," she grunted, poking him in the side. His ribs were showing through hard panels of muscle. "And you smell like a brewery."

"D'aww." He laughed, crawling off of her, then laying down again beside her with his head propped up on his hand, unable to wipe the grin off his face. Nina was pouting at him; he leaned over and kissed her instinctively, and the danger of it thrilled him even more now than it did before. She blushed and jerked away out of surprise.

"Sorry again."

"Are these mistakes gonna happen often?"

"Well, no, but--"

"'Cause I don't mind."

He sat up, raking a hand through his hair. "Listen, Nina... I gotta talk about that. This. In case you don't know, I'm not exactly good company. I think I've got a good idea how you've been feeling about me for a long time. It'd be so much easier if I could just tell you to stop, but making you hate me is easier and I'm better at it."

Nina looked back without saying anything, but of course her expressive face began to tell its own story. She was anticipating what he was trying to say, understanding his feelings way better than he did, of course. The girl had an annoying way of finishing his sentences and thoughts with scary accuracy.

The wounded look made his heart bend a bit more to the breaking point. He was so close to her, he could feel her pulse beat without touching her. He brushed his hand over her cheek and through her hair, letting his fingertips trail lightly, while he drew even closer. A young lithe form pressed close to him in return; her innocence about it all was heartbreaking. She tried to kiss him again but he wouldn't let her. He kept her back, his lips an inch apart from hers as they spoke.

"I don't wanna hurt you," he whispered in a tormented, broken tone. "I'm going to kill you, girl. Being with me is a disease."

"I didn't die. And that was Vergil, not you. I... I thought you were dead, Dante. What did you think I was going to do? If you were dead, do you think Lady would let me hang on her? Where would I go? I like you, Dante! Why are you being so dramatic?!"

If she started crying, even after all this playing tough girl business, he did not know what he would do to himself to make up for it. But to avoid any further temptation, he pulled himself out of her hold easily. He knew if he dared mention her staying with Alia, she'd hate him for it. The pain of abandoning her would fade, of course. Everything faded with time. He ripped open his heart and tore it out to reach the callous asshole inside. He needed the careless bastard he used to be so he could do this. For Nina. So he waved her concerns away and made his decision.

"We're leaving in a couple of days so I have time to prepare. There's a place I have but I don't use. Think of it as... a prolonged camping trip."

* * *

Lady combed her fingers through her hair. Without looking forward to talking to Dante, she knew she had to all the same. For Nina's sake. The girl was a half-demon and an impressionable teenager. Being around Dante and his dangerous suicidal behavior would wreck her with stress and worry. It already showed Lady that Nina cared a lot about Dante - for all the wrong reasons.

Half-devils go to Hell by default, she knew. She had killed enough of them to understand their fear of death did not stem from losing their place on earth but from enduring an eternity learning the many definitions of pain.

Lady liked Nina. The last thing she wanted was to see her get hurt... and fall apart when she realized Dante was not up to the emotional challenges of being a good boyfriend. He was constantly wrapped up in himself. It took Lady everything to get him to come out and share his troubles and when he did, they lasted only for awhile before he doused himself in booze to make it disappear.

While Alia was resting, Lady gave herself up to some serious thinking. If Dante really had meant what he said, then he really was capable of being a shallow, heartless man. He never showed himself off as anything but, and yet now, looking at him in the office and that grinning, uncaring face made her question her opinion of Dante Sparda.

She showered and changed before watching Alia rest. The girl's clothes had been horribly torn apart, her body almost utterly naked. So the woman had wrapped her in a blanket and gave her a little pillow. In spite of all the money Dante gave Alia, there wasn't much to make the place that homey except for the dozens of flower boxes on the kitchen table. The blooms were breathtaking. She wondered if this was where Alia had been growing them.

Today was going to be a life-changing day for Dante. She could be wrong about him. The way he looked at Nina, the way his face seemed so absolutely devoid of Vergil's shadow, made Lady's heart sing... and silently curse Nina. No, she wasn't in love with Dante. She had simply made it a point of pride to get Dante to open up to her. To give her some damn credit as a human and a woman who could actually understand. And then with Vergil appearing before Dante in Hell, he must have been feeling pretty messed up.

He hated Vergil, but she recognized that he had loved him as his brother before that. That probably set up a basic plot for any close relationship he tried to have. Before, Nina had just been annoying piece of business he had to take care of. It was how he treated almost everything else. Then she started to be something more.

"Damn." Lady glared at her fingernails. She'd broken one again. "What a pain in the ass."

She made herself some breakfast and left a bit of money for Alia. Around noon, Alia woke up and cried a little. Nina was at Dante's and Alia wanted to see her.

"Is she okay?"

"Dante said she was going to be okay with some rest. You should be resting, too. A change of clothes wouldn't hurt. You're seriously not ready to get up and go about your day after that Destroyer. Speaking of which... how do you feel about that?"

"I'm glad it's gone. I was... I was suspecting something was strange with me. But now that it's gone..." Her eyes squinted, then relaxed. "I can see clearly. I feel lighter. But my wings are gone."

"Then that's a good sign." Lady leaned on the table by all the flowers. "But you know what it means. By now... do you have any doubts about what you are? Or were?"

"I'm a demon." Alia looked down at her small, skeletal thin hands. She wrung them together and sighed. "But I'm also something else. I will content myself to leave it be. Whatever that is, it will be revealed to me. I shall be more prepared next time."

"Good." Lady smiled. Alia was so mature. She took everything in stride, so it was no surprise that she seemed to feel at peace with everything. "Dante might want to come up and talk to you about... about what happened up there. Will that be all right today?"

"His brother."

"Yup."

"He will not be pleased to learn what has befallen him in the Demon World. His brother has not been treated kindly. In fact, if I had any say... I would have let Vergil come out. He wanted an escape from Hell, not an opportunity for power."

"Even if it meant bringing the Destroyer out of you and killing everyone?"

"Somehow, I don't think that even figured in his mind. He probably thought he and Dante would destroy it together." The irony of it blew Lady away. She barely swallowed the mouthful of lemonade she had just sipped. "Would anyone in Hell not yearn for the blessing of freedom?"

"He kind of brought it on himself," Lady murmured. "I was there for most of it. Dante stopped Vergil from getting all the power of Sparda for himself after he stopped my father from doing the same. They worked together against my father. It must have been a sight to see. In the end, Vergil was still after power and cursed Dante for not wanting any of it or using it. I don't know what Dante really wanted if it wasn't power. He... confuses me."

"We all want to see our families again."

Lady said nothing. _Not me._

"Don't you agree?"

"I don't think I should be the one having that conversation with you."

Alia lowered her voice, realizing she was cutting close to a raw nerve. "Oh. I'm sorry."

"Forget it. I'm just tired of everyone having these flowery ideas of family. No one's family is perfect." Lady hardly dared let the venom seep out into her voice. Alia had been through so much, but through some miracle of will and hope, she still had warm, bright ideas about the world. Even now, when she had to admit that she was made of the same dark stuff demons are made of. "You're so strange, Alia."

"Are my ideas so alien to you? Or have you lost that much of your humanity too?" It was not meant to be hurtful, but the woman turned suddenly with a look of fury uglying her face.

"How dare you!"

"I-I'm sorry!" Alia covered her mouth. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't judge anyone. I'm... I say too much all the time. I'm sorry. Now you're mad at me too."

Lady growled under her breath, rubbing her face a little bit. "It's not you at all. Dammit, why does everything have to get so messed up?"

"I said something to Nina. I guess she was mad at me for saying that there had to be something better to be than a demon, more or less. She got angry because... because she already knew, without a doubt, who and what she was. But at the same time, she denies it in her own ways too. And when I say things people don't want to admit out loud, it tends to make people angry. I wonder why... Why wouldn't people want to know the truth?"

"Because lying... lying is part of the commerce of happiness." Lady scowled at the floor. "Just ask anyone. You can even ask Dante."

* * *

Dante woke up a quarter past four in the afternoon to the sound of a familiar annoying voice coming from downstairs. He was groggy, he hadn't eaten since yesterday, and the last person he wanted to see was the man he heard downstairs. After Nina had fallen asleep, he had chosen to fall asleep in the chair next to her bed and his neck was now making a series of complaints as he straightened.

The fat Italian bastard had let himself in as usual. "Dante! Dante, are you up?"

He was coming upstairs now. Fuck. Dante swung himself to his feet, saw that Nina was cuddled up obliviously under his blanket and walked out the door to the stairs, feigning exhaustion.

"What the hell do you want, Enzo? I thought I told you to knock, dammit."

The man's face hadn't changed much. His face was puckered and puffy from apparently getting here as fast as possible. He waved a bunch of papers at Dante. "I was knocking! I didn't know you were upstairs! Jesus. Look all this business I've been getting all of a sudden. You wouldn't happen to know what happened last night, did you? There's been business springing up everywhere. One case has got a kid locking all his toys in the basement because they're coming to life."

"I don't have a rate for kids."

"W-Well, there's plenty of other stuff going on too. All morning, people have been keeping me busy. I-I know you requested I do background checks on all of them but I just thought I'd run them by you first and you can take the one you want and then I'll work on that one?"

"Christ. Better take a look, then." _And keep it down, fat ass. I got someone trying to sleep._ He looked at the paperwork spread out in front of him, orderly if not a bit crinkled. Enzo had obviously had a challenge trying to keep up with it all. There were twelve cases going on all at once, vying for Dante's services. So much for the vacation.

The kid's toys, a demonic pentegram sprouting in the middle of the dining room and making the furniture go nuts, a missing person, another missing person, and a range of miscellaneous events that hardly caught Dante's eye. Then he pulled a manilla folder out from under the pile of papers.

"Did you look at this one yet?" Dante pried it open and turned it over. A single eight-by-six photgraph fell out along with a hand written note. It was a picture of the strange doll, the one he fought possessed by Vergil. It looked almost as alive as the real thing. A small polite smile curved the hollow man's face into looking amiable. The hand-writing was small and neat.

"Please accept my sincerest apologies for any actions I had committed under the possession of that man. I never meant to harm anyone. I humbly request only one thing: please let me know if Alia is okay. She is such a kind and sweet person and showed me kindness when I regained control of my body for that short while. I will pay you personally a humble sum of three-hundred dollars and seventy cents, no matter how she fares. I am a servant of the tower so I cannot come in person to request this. I'm sorry again. - Nathaniel"

He looked perplexed for a minute. Then he laughed out loud. "O-kay."

"Someone knocked on the door and said it was from someone not so important, so I ignored it. I guess I grabbed it with the other stuff. Somebody you know?"

"Some kid's got a crush on my tenant and he wants me to deliver news about her. I'll get to it sooner or later." He flipped through the two missing person reports whose circumstances had 'demon' written all over it. The only explanation for this boost in business was the Destroyer. The demon world had been open for a long time and things unseen could have possibly slipped out around the edges while Dante was busy keeping the monster occupied.

As soon as Dante handed Enzo the ones he would accept, Nina called plaintively from upstairs.

Dante stared at Enzo, waiting for him to make a comment. Any comment. Enzo blanched, too late in hiding the little smirk that crossed his lips.

"Don't."

Enzo gulped. "I'll come back to you with the details, boss."

"You do that."

The little fat Italian man scuttled out of the office. Dante sank into his chair and kicked his feet up, grimacing when his stomach gurgled.

Nina wandered downstairs, frumpy and wrinkled. "Dante...?"

"Nix the vacation thing. I just got some work today and a mountain of debt to pay off."

"W-Well, what do you want me to do?" Nina was rubbing her shoulder and blearily looking at the papers on Dante's desk.

"Stay the hell out of my way." He looked furtively at the sword leaning on the desk. "You're staying home, Nina. All day."

"I missed work and didn't even call in!"

"Too bad. Not like you can't find other work eventually."

"Ngghh...." Missed work was the least of her problems. "I think... I'm going to go see if there's a mountain of beef in the fridge. I wanna burger!"

"I want to burger, too," Dante mimed, grinning. "Go shower. I'll cook."


	16. Maybe Not Just A Kiss

A/N: There are two. Count them. TWO versions of this chapter. For multiple reasons. It's very complicated. This website does not permit me to go nuts with the details. But one chapter has stuff happen that isn't polite for chilluns. This chapter is the one that's safe. SAFE, I tell you. So enjoy it. For every detail I could afford to put in here stayed. I can see you're getting ready to scroll down to see what juicy bits I'm talking about. Read it from the beginning, I COMMAND YOU. I bring you… Chapter Sixteen. This fanfic is getting way too long. Someone, help me kill it. KILL IT WITH FIRE. Or a shovel. ANYTHING!!

Chapter 16

It was so hard to accept that Dante was using work to avoid her. It was obvious. Unbelievably he left for a job even if it did not directly involve any kind of demonic or supernatural indications. He took on odd jobs because it got him out of the store and got him away from her - the temptation of her presence and the pain it caused to look at her pouting face.

As if to hammer the last nail in the coffin, Nina did not even have Alia to talk to anymore. Dante had conveyed a message to Alia about Nathaniel, so now, most of the time Alia was out spending time at the Memorial Tower to be with him. Alia had no idea how much that hurt her, spending so much time from Nina. Then for days at a time, Dante was at work, come home late and go to bed on the sofa smelling like blood. He never bantered with her anymore and as the days went by, kissing him and feeling his touch became more and more like a wonderful dream and less like a reoccurence.

She spent most of her days up on the roof, watching the street and the people on it and a certain swaggering figure in red. Nina wondered if seeing her would upset him, or if her behavior was a bit over-obsessive. But ever since that night, it was all she thought about. Like some switch had been turned on and wouldn't shut off. She wanted to be near him. She would have been happy just to joke around with him and dance between the line of appropriate peer-to-peer interaction and obscene. She liked that type of conversation - it freed her from herself for awhile, allowing her to be daring without being stupid in front of family.

He freed her.

She arched her arms over her head as she stood in the rooftop one morning, a thin mist sliding across the buildings, a blotchy tower staining the west town black. This was the Memorial Tower, where Alia and Nathaniel were waxing philosophical in the torchlight. Nina's arm itched more and more lately, as though illustrating her restlessness.

_Are you going to stand up here for the rest of our percieved existence?_

She started from her brooding with a curse. She had almost forgotten that she had another part of her that haunted her, even if she was half-demon. "So what if I do?"

_You'd wait forever for that slop, wouldn't you?_

"You're stepping over the line, pal! Even if you were there for that... when it happened..." She felt tears sting her eyes. Embarassment filled her with disgust at her own actions.

_You never thought for one minute that he's just using you?_

"Son of a-- How dare you suggest that to me!" She clenched her hand around her wrist, fury filling her to the brim. "He would never, ever use me. That's disgusting! In fact, the way he's acting, you would think maybe he's trying NOT to use me. Or maybe he thinks no matter what he does, it'll look bad." She had thought about all this over and over again so many times that it breeched the breaking point in her mind. It was dizzyingly frustrating, not being able to talk to Dante and unable to get the courage to corner him.

_Well then. I'm not interested in the high school drama that has become your life, although this happens to take place in a very different setting. I'm going to sleep. Wake me when things become interesting. Mortal affairs bore me to tears._

"Whatever." Nina huffed, folding her arms over her chest and walking back and forth on the roof. She had used the service ladder to get up here. The trip was almost as familiar as going up and down the stairs to haunt Dante's loft.

Lady was not helpful at all. She did not support a relationship between Nina and Dante, for several stupid reasons which Lady had failed to explain at all. All Nina knew was Lady had to be jealous.

It had to be it.

Either way, Nina was furious with herself and with everyone else, who seemed to be abandoning her at every turn.

She started down the service ladder and climbed into the window fire escape. It was just then that she saw Lady standing there in mid-step.

"I was just coming up to get you," Lady greeted lightly, a strange expression on her face. "What's up?"

"Um... not me anymore, that's for sure."

"What do you find so fascinating up there anyway?"

Nina glowered. Lady picked like a mother hen and it grated on her nerves. "The view, actually." Teenager temper began to flare - as well as something else. "Is Dante back yet?"

"Not yet." Nina could tell Lady was biting her tongue to keep from saying anything more. It felt like a victory to the teenage female. Lady went on, "If you want, actually, I brought over some movies and... I had nothing to do today. I wanted to know if you'd like to hang out with me?"

"S-Sure?" The response came automatically. It wasn't that she didn't want to hang out with Lady; it was simply because it was better than sneaking into Dante's room before going to the sofa instead downstairs, where it was saturated with his weird aura. If they happened to watch the movie on the sofa, then more goodies for her.

Lady smiled and for some odd reason looked absolutely relieved. They met downstairs and lounged on the sofa with a bucket of popcorn between them. It was rental; some movie about three-hundred guys in loin clothes running around killing bad guys by the thousands. For some reason it put Nina in a funky mood - like she'd love to be in their shoes - sandles, whatever - and slashing and hacking through hordes and hordes of evil.

Half-way through the movie, Nina felt her eyes unfocus and her thoughts turn inward. As fascinating as the slow-motion blood spurting effects were, she was already thinking of what else to do with the rest of her day. Dante had promised he would train her so she would be able to take her strength and do something useful with it instead of flailing like a fish out of water and hoping she might hit something. She thought about the battles they had fought together and successful strikes she had done, recollecting the sweet satisfaction she wrung from doing harm to demons.

She tried not to remember how Vergil's sword had felt as it slid so neatly through her skin and how shocked she had been when the blood started to pump out of her. How scared she had been of dying and seeing Dante dead. She had been so sure that Dante was dead that being without him now made her frantic at times - what if he was hurt again?

Then a cynical little voice that had nothing to do with her 'friend' told her that if it hadn't been for her, Dante might not have been hurt at all. She argued inwardly that no, it didn't have to do with her because he was just doing his job and he would have gone up there no matter what Alia had done. If he hadn't, then the Destroyer might have been awoken and everything would be demon dust by now. Her eyes focused again at the most inopportune moment. A woman and man, crushed together in a nude embrace, kissing.

She grimaced and looked away, her hand flicking up to shield her eyes from both the TV and Lady's incredulous look.

"Lady... Have you ever...?" Her eyes flicked over to her. "Have you had sex yet?"

The she-hunter looked perplexed. "I can't really answer that question without knowing what the hell makes you ask."

"You've lived with Dante... So I automatically figured--"

"Oh." Lady's face looked flabbergasted. "EW!"

" 'Ew'?"

"I would never, EVER sleep with Dante, much less date him - AND!" She lifted a finger to interrupt Nina's protest. "That's none of your business and finally, I have much better taste in men than that. And so should you!"

"But Lady!" Nina turned around, scoffing. "I thought you liked him. You fight all the time like you guys are married. Over money and stuff."

"That's just because I'm more like his big sister bugging him to get off his ass and stop smoking pot and spending money at the arcade." She hesitated. "That's a metaphor, Nina."

"I know!"

"And for the record, if you're interested in having sex at your age, then maybe it's time I did try to treat you more like an adult and less like a kid. After all, I get tired of watching you moon over Dante when he's gone and moon over him when he's here."

Nina flinched, feeling the same old lecture coming. Her anger built like a pressurized oxygen tank and she prepared a litany of rapid-fire remarks about how Lady ought to mind her own business too and how sorry she was for bringing it up.

"It's not about sex!" Nina shouted at the exact time Dante walked in through the front door.

He stood flabbergasted for a moment with a bag of canned soup in his hand. "Did I just... No. Nope. Forget it. Didn't hear anything."

Nina buried her face in her hands. Lady clucked and shook her head with an exasperated sigh. It was never a dull day in the house Sparda.

----

In the end, for some reason, they all watched a movie that night. Dante dragged his mattress all the way downstairs as if weighed no more than a paperweight, flopped it into the floor in front of the TV and heated up some clam chowder which they shared in oversized coffee mugs. They watched another movie, this one without muscly men in loincloths and artistic sex scenes. Instead it was a Whose Line marathon which quickly had Nina and Dante guffawing hysterically and Lady chuckling now and then. Lady watched them together with the interest of making sure they were being appropriate, but in the end she gave up. Nina and Dante were too concerned with laughing their asses off at the marathon to even be remotely concerned with touching each other.

"All right, boy and girl," she sighed, staring down at the pair around two in the morning. "I'm going to beddy-by. Will you two behave yourselves?"

The pair nodded, no longer munching on snack food but giggling bleary-eyed at the television. Lady glared at Dante as if to say, 'Don't you dare get in trouble' and Dante pretended he did not notice. So Lady left them alone, wishing she had had more time to discuss grown-up things with Nina. But she had to trust the girl. She didn't trust Dante as far as she could throw him. The things he had said had put a very noticable wedge between Lady and himself. But tonight it looked like nothing had happened.

Just what kind of screwed up head games was he playing with Nina?

------

To be honest, Dante didn't even know himself. All night he was laughing and having a good time. Nina's laughter was rich and hearty and not reserved in the least. She knew how to have fun like a kid. She laughed like a boy. It was refreshing. And yet earlier she had ducked her head and blushed beet red when he made his not-so-grand entrance with soup and snacks. He had wanted so much to make up for all the time he was running away, he had almost forgoten that he was supposed to be an asshole - thanks to what he said to Lady, he now had to uphold the image of the unforgivable Prick who only wanted to taunt the innocent teenage girl.

But tonight, all pretenses and facades aside, he hoped that Lady misread it as: he has decided to take a night off and has allowed his womenfolk to partake in it.

Nina's eyes sparkled in the glow of the TV. She rolled and hit the mattress with her fists and breathlesly wheezed laughter into her pillow and tried to catch her breath. She seemed to be releasing some kind of weird pent-up emotions, because sometimes it sounded like she would start crying or something. But her laughter was definitely real. He was just glad he found someone who appreciated that show as much as he did.

After Lady finally left, Nina was staring adamantly at the television and refused to look at Dante at all.

The show was not holding his attention at all anymore. He scoured his brain for something to occupy his mind, but she was there - and every night spent away was a nightmare.

"What you been up to?" he asked finally, glumly poking at the empty soup pot. The cardinal rule about late nights: there's always room for more soup.

"Oh. Uh, nothing. Kind of pissed because you haven't been around to train me." She glowered at him from under her bangs. Her eyes caught the fire of Colin's bright Hawaiian floral shirt. "I wanted to take you up on that. So it would give me something to do other than mope around, kinda like how I've been since you're avoiding me."

"Who says I'm avoiding?"

"No one, but any idiot can see that you are. You're not being fair."

"I guess not. I walk home and you and Lady are talking behind my back about me!"

"We weren't-- talking about you! I asked her if she had sex before 'cause of the dumb scene in the movie and like, she said why, and I said well because you live with Dante and you guys argue like you're a couple."

Dante sputtered a little, uncharacteristically taken aback. "Wait. So you think me and Lady _fuck_?"

"Past tense. And watch your language!"

Dante let the marathon continue because the background noise filled the awkward silence while he tried to collect his thoughts. "What did she say?"

"She said no, 'cause she had better taste in men and it wasn't my business."

"She's telling the truth. She has way better taste in men. In fact, I think there's not a single man in the world good enough for her. She's married to her work anyway. I'd like to meet the guy who woos her away from killing demons. There's nothin' else in the world like it, I tell you. Ask anyone in the business."

"Like you?"

"Ah... yeah, kinda." He looked for the remote. It was under his blanket somewhere.

"Do you like devil hunting more than hanging out with me?" Nina fished the remote out of her sweatshirt and tossed it to him. He turned off the movie and rolled over onto his side, his hair falling across one of his troubled icy blue eyes.

"Nina. Come on. You know I'd love to hang out with you more." He had a slightly whiny boyfriend voice - which was endearing but absolutely unnecessary.

"No. Tell me about it, because I must not have gotten the memo." Nina growled as she punched at his arm. It was a lot harder than she meant to. She winced and looked down apologetically.

This time his voice came through the half-dark of the living room with more of a sober note, his timbre vibrating deliciously through her ear drums. "I love to spend time with you. I love hearing you laugh. It drives me nuts when you beat me up and joke with me." He closed his eyes as if the truth really did hurt. "I want to wake up next to you and go to bed next to you and - just - not worry."

Nina's mouth was suddenly dry. "About what?" she croaked, taking in his tormented expression.

"Losing you."

"Then train me like you said you would."

"I'm working on it. I haven't been exactly just fighting demons every day. In fact, I've got time off set aside for you especially. I haven't told Lady about it yet but I actually saved some money aside so she can care for my shop a bit while we're gone."

_Must be that trip he was telling me about_, she thought, and wildly entertained the idea of a romantic get-away before the image of Dante and a palm tree in the same frame became so hilarious she almost started sputtering. "Wh-Where?"

"It's way outside of town. It's remote and quiet. I used to go there a lot when I was younger and stuff. I had to do a lot of renovating. It's why I've been away more than usual."

"Whoa, Dante the carpenter." Nina giggled a little, her cheeks heating up at the idea. Even if she knew it was just silliness.

He rolled his eyes. "Don't even start. It sucks. I'm a half-demon and I absolutely wimp out about splinters."

"Bullshite!"

"Listen, though. This isn't like a vacation. I really went out of my way to get this place especially for you. You're going to bust your ass, because you're not like me - you can't just - know how to use a weapon when you pick it up. And half-demon you may be, you can still get flabby." His eyes glittered the longer he spoke. "It starts with you and ends with you. You let go of everything you think you know about yourself or about me. I'm not your friend, I'm not your lover, I'm not your acquaintance or... brother. I'm going to make you the best you can possibly be the best way I know, which isn't good. I've never - trained anyone or been trained officially. I just 'know'. If I can figure out how to give this 'knowing' to you, I'll do it in a heartbeat. But even then it wouldn't stop me from worrying about you constantly." He scowled playfully. "You're giving me gray hairs."

"I can tell." Her eyes were steely now; it hurt when he said all that. But they weren't training yet, so she could afford to ignore it now.

He smirked, but all that talking had made him anxious. He rubbed the bridge of his nose a bit and sighed, exasperated at so many words. He was tired too. She knew he never needed as much sleep as he let on, but she had a feeling that when he slept when he wasn't tired, it was to pass the time between fighting. Dante Sparda was indeed a mysterious guy. She found herself frustrated and entranced both at the same time.

Then he did something she had been waiting for - so small a thing. He touched her hair and brushed his fingers through it, very slowly combing her hair back behind her ear. She slipped her eyes shut and tried not to swoon. Calloused though his fingertips were, the touch was a boon to her stress. She dropped her head onto her pillow and let loose a short laugh. He laid his head down also and watched her continue to fight against sleep.

"You're so unbelievably cute."

"Unh?"

"Go to sleep, idiot." He slid closer and pulled her in, creating a solid Dante barricade around her body.

"'Kay," she sang sleepily and found a happy balance between pressing her face against his chest and her pillow.

-------

It should have felt good as they chartered a bus out to the place Dante had spoken about. A whole weekend with Dante - and he had said he guaranteed she would have at least some fighting experience in her system before he took her to work with him to get real training. He said it was because no one learned better than through experience. It scared her a little - she still relived that awful memory of being stabbed through her belly whenever she thought of being out there in the midst of battle. Dante made it seem so easy, so fun, so... free. He always laughed. It looked exhilarating.

Nina clutched her backpack as they drove on, sitting next to Dante as he propped his feet up on the seat in front of him while he slept alone, his 'guitar case' leaning up against the seat and the window. The city has dissolved into a beautiful countryside, going a way she had never gone before even in all her own travels as a runaway. This was someplace only Dante knew about and he was sharing it with her, so it was a bit exciting to be going somewhere alone with him - even if he had made it clear that the trip was for her benefit. Her nerves kept tingling whenever her leg brushed his side. Her eyes wandered to the chiseled line of his jaw as sunlight danced over his skin. He looked beautiful when he was napping. Even the strangers on the bus cast curious glances at him. Nina never felt so lucky to be the person who got to sit next to him.

She had gone out of her way to pack a bathing suit, since he'd mentioned a river. It was just plain black and it looked good on her, or so Lady had begrudgingly admitted. It wasn't like she was trying to go out of her way to model it for Dante. But in case there was an opportunity to go swimming, she wanted to take it if only to relax from whatever strenuous exercises Dante would put her through.

It was nerve-wracking - like gym class was nerve-wracking. She tried to remember gym class from school, and recalled the day she had kicked ass at dodge ball. She nearly broke that poor guy's nose from the force of throwing that ball. How the elation had filled her when she pushed herself - not too much! - to fight her best.

Would that be how it was training with Dante? To fight as hard as she could push herself and find the elation he revelled in and learn to harness that tireless childish exuberance?

Did killing his own kind give him such joy? she suddenly thought. She gripped her bag tighter, watching Dante nap. She never noticed how his jaw was so taut. Troubled thoughts filled her to the brim when the realization that there was so much more to Dante than met the eye.

In a couple more hours, they got off the bus seemingly in the middle of nowhere. She stared around her, blinking in the light with an aching bladder, rubbing her eyes after a nap and thoughts alone. Dante stretched his arms over his head beside her and breathed deep.

"Huaaahhh...! Get a load of nature. Now. Hike!"

"Hike?" Nina squeaked.

"Hike." He patted her on the back harder than she deserved and he started off at random through the trees - or so it seemed.

He seemed to be following a path that she had to look hard at to find on her own through ferns, shoe-lacing snatching bushes and sticks, flowers, fox-glove and lady-slippers and so many other flowers she remembered vaguely from school. So she traveled along behind him in an effort to avoid tripping and stepping all over the pretty flowers, glad that her bag was light and small. She discovered that hiking still tuckered her out almost the same as if she was ordinarily human. For this trip, he had traded in his coat for one suitable to forest travel.

"I had no idea you loved the outdoors, Dante," she said quietly, hearing her own voice pound in her ears. It was so damn quiet out here. Birds twittered everywhere in spite of all the noise they were making. The farther they got from the road, the more nervous and excited she became. "You seem to love the pulse of the city too much, you know?"

"It won't be quiet for much longer if we're going to do this properly."

"What does _that_ mean?" Nina murmured, smirking.

"It means that we're going far away from the city so nobody other than us two get hurt. I'm not gonna be gentle." The half-devil picked up the pace. Suddenly Nina stumbled behind him cursing. She skinned the palms of her hands on pine needles and a tree root. Her eyes watered from the jolt and the embarassment; her palm burned like a son of a bitch from the scrape. On her knees, she stared at her palm while the scrape slowly smeared over with fresh new pink tender skin.

Then she looked around herself and realized she was alone. The silent trees surrounded her in a verdant cathedral of darkness. Dante was nowhere in sight. She seemed suddenly abandoned... and then it slowly crept over her. She pushed it down as hard as she could, but there was no denying the panic that she was being abandoned.

"Dante?" she asked the trees. They didn't answer. He was hiding; he couldn't have gone far. She stood up quickly and looked around, straining to detect any kind of movement, but it seemed everything that could move and sway in the breeze, was in fact moving and swaying. She remembered Dante was wearing a BROWN leather jacket today and dark muted pants. How could he go missing with hair as white as snow in a place so green?

"Dante, this isn't funny!" She spun around slowly, growling at her predicament. Was this really abandonment - or some kind of test of his that he had conned up for her?

_Calm down, Nina. Breathe. Just follow the path. If you can find it._

The teenage girl walked along through the forest alone, divining no path at all; she hiked slowly, clambering over rocks covered in thick carpets of moss that must have been growing there, older than she was. The ancient rocks were even older than that. Tree trunks as thick around as buildings seemed to grow here; something dwelled in every shadow, watching her with benign curiosity. Her lips were parted with awe at the thick canopy.

"This can't be real," she murmured in trembling awe. She stopped beside two enormous boulders rounded by time. There, where thick grass, ferns, and pebbles had been piled before, she found an old engravement that stood out from all the natural edifices in the entire wood. It was definitely old and worn, green with centuries of rust. It had been copper of some kind. The words were long since worn, but the discovery definitely showed her she was in the right area.

If Dante was watching her, that was fine. She turned and continued on through the passage of stone formed by the boulders and into the clearing beyond. She heard a distant sound like running water - lots of running water - before she saw the house.

Cabin! It was like a small mansion, with a beautiful front porch - it was swept and cleaned off with chairs set out front. Lots of firewood - enough for the whole weekend. And there was Dante, standing in the doorway leaning against the door jam, jacketless and wearing a longsleeve shirt.

"You're late," he chided. "But you found the place, so you get one thousand points."

"Yay! Wait, what are the points for again?"

"Um. The points don't matter."

"Okay, Drew Carrey." Nina grinned and leapt up onto the porch. Dante's stuff was already in a little room for himself but she had a good feeling that he would be sleeping on the sofa tonight - just like if he were at home.

SHE would be sleeping in the bedroom. She blushed as she saw the room... and how beautiful it was. It was sparkling clean and dusted, the linens clean and fresh-smelling. Candles on the dresser.

"This is just for the weekend, you know," she called to him, putting her bag on the bed. "This is... It's beautiful."

She relished in the moment for a minute, stuck between wanting to turn around and embrace him or play it aloof. She was definitely aloof, her hands wrapping around her elbows as she stood back by the window, looking out from the view. Behind the cabin, the trees had een naturally cut back by the waterline, and a slow-moving river bubble along in the darkness. The sunlight glistened on the rippling water, reflecting it along the leafy riverbanks. There was an ancient wooden dock going out into the river and held in place with pilings of rock seemingly carved out of the boulder around this little hidden paradise.

He came up behind her and put both arms around her gently and slowly. He had been moving fairly quickly through the trees, so she could detect a faint tang of his sweat. Trying to ignore him, she turned her head away - but all the same, his lips immediately went to the slope of her neck. Her eyes blinked rapidly with alarm. His seduction was so hard to resist; she thought of what her mom would want her to do. Her own sexuality was demanding her to respond in some other way than shock and shame. He kept kissing her neck without any more pressure or urgency, keeping the same level of interest, his hands harmlessly resting on her waist.

In his arms, Dante felt her relax. But he noticed her shaking from head to toe. He was handling her as carefully as he would any volatile explosive. He touched her lips to her throat and felt an ache so old it made him suddenly tired.

"A...Are you going to... tease me all weekend? That isn't fair." She was so breathless. It was tearing him apart.

"Sorry." He let her go, stepping back one, two steps. "I have some food in the fridge I got last night. It's getting dark." Mastering his desire, he grinned at her in his charismatic carefree manner. "Rest early. I have a lesson plan for tomorrow. I expect you to be up early to get started."

Nina nodded, a little slower to eliminate the hazy glow from her eyes that indicated her rampant hormones. She, too, laughed and stepped past him to explore the rest of the cabin. She understood something very plainly - if she was going to get through the weekend, she would have to stay focused on the work and not on the gorgeous hunky male sharing the same living space with her.

-------

After munching on s'mores and hotdogs, Dante went off to be alone. It wasn't hard to do. He simply vanished and Nina was all by herself in the quiet cabin. There was a living room kitchen area, which was cleaned up after their cook out. In the dusk, she wandered out into the summer cool evening wrapped in her towel and bathing suit and got in. At once it was very, very clear that the river water was a bit more cold than swimming-water allowed. But it was refreshing and it definitely served to wash away her restless body.

Armed with flip-flops, she squeaked her way back up to the cabin, chattering teeth clicking away. Clambering through the unfamiliar threshold, she bumped against Rebellion - and it nearly clattered to the floor if she hadn't caught it by the double-edged blade. She hissed and gave a cry as pain lanced through her palm, up her shoulder. She flipped the lightswitch and grimaced at the streak of blood started to drip down her right palm and from two of her fingers.

But before she went to the sink to rinse it off, the skin tissue and blood seemed to reverse in action, dripping back into her flesh, knitting together again. She stared at the bizarre, pale pink scar across her palm an sensitive fingerpads. The teenager sighed aloud and hobbled off to her bedroom, sliding the door shut before peeling off the sopping wet article.

The boy she liked was nowhere in sight. But with her body exhausted from the exercise in the water, Nina was committed to go to bed and wake up early as instructed and focus on what he had in store for her tomorrow.

It felt like five minutes had gone by when a loud bang woke her up. It was still dark out and she crawled from her bed, glaring at the closed bedroom door.

"Get up, kid! I don't have all day." Another bang. Nina jumped out of bed, naked and blearily looking for her bag to get some clothes on.

As soon as she was ready, Dante was waiting for her outside and slapping a long wooden sword into his palm, shirtless and furtively staring at her. He didn't have to tell her what the wooden swords were for. And he didn't have to tell her that today was going to be all about simply fighting.

Without any breakfast, she was clumsy and weak and lacked the simple finesse of a practiced swordsman. After an hour, Dante called for breakfast. Nina was already sore.

"You don't have to hit me so hard." Nina inhaled her breakfast of eggs, bacon and pulpy orange juice.

Dante shrugged. "Do you think any demon that crosses your path will exercise a little restraint just 'cause you're a girl? Or because you're pretty? Or only a half-demon? You'll thank me for the bruises. Trust me."

She bared her teeth at him in mock disdain. "I'm sure. Oh, and don't think I'm going to go easy on you just because you're Mr. Hottie and walk around without a shirt all day."

"It's going to be eighty something today." He smiled darkly. "My only remedy for the heat is to practice in the water, which is a boon in and of itself." He sat back, giving her time to soak in all the food; half-demons used up a lot more energy than normal humans did just to fuel their huge feats of strength and stamina. "Change into your bathing suit, because it's going to suck in those jeans."

"Thought it'd be more realistic if I just kept my clothes on!" Nina protested. She tried not to imagine flailing around in the water, whacking away at Dante with a wooden stick like some neanderthal female. "But I _guess_ it'd be fun to keep cool." She stood up and stretched before sauntering over. Dante was trying to teach her the way he liked to fight, but the explosive movement of his attacks proved to be too difficult for her small, short little woman body to achieve. So he was making her emulate a style he said he knew intimately but rarely exercised since his sword was too heavy for such fine and fluid movements.

It worked well for small or tall people, he said. She moved through them all and found herself adapting everything to memory and executing his instruction flawlessly. Did she possess the same kind of instinctive battle knowledge that Dante did? All the same, she knew he was pulling punches for her to be able to learn from her mistakes without actually injuring her.

Lunch came. Nina fell on the ground in front of her food and devoured it with snarls and a fury attributed only to real wild predators. Soaking wet from his grueling waterbound instruction, she barely noticed the heat of the sun and the humidity until she was finished eating. It was high noon, and even in the water, it was impossible for Nina to concentrate enough strength in her trembling arms and legs. She swore constantly when she took a hit from being too slow to block. Even though she was getting exhausted by the minute, Dante pushed her even harder. He was cold to her pain even when she started crying with frustration.

"Cut it out," he snapped. "Stop thinking about how much this is bothering you. A day will come," he said more softly, "when you'll have to use this unique strength of yours to save someone else's ass. It may come down to it that you'll suffer a lot of pain and exhaustion. But if you care enough about someone else, that's what you would do."

"This sucks. There's no way in Hell I'll be able to endure that kind of pain."

"That's what we're here for." He pushed her over onto the ground and grunted in disatisfaction when she just flopped there, pouting and heaving for breath. "Fine. You're done. Practice your sword work for another fifteen, then we'll have dinner." Then he winked over his shoulder. "I won't _hit_ on you anymore."

Nina wobbled to her feet and scoffed. "You jest, sir." Her eyes were wild with a maelstrom of feelings. Obviously, all the activity had worn her thin and he saw her own inner devil chipping away at the surface of her psyche. It was too dangerous to continue today. Half-demons were still dangerous, no matter who sired or whelped them. It had no bearing on how much danger they would be if pushed the wrong distance.

Tomorrow, they would both see just how far Nina would be pushed. Her human side was limiting her too much as he knew it would. He saw how far she could be pushed in the past, and all it would take was to get her to that breaking point again. But not until tomorrow. Tonight she just needed to rest and get a halter on her emotions. If today was difficult, tomorrow would be Hell in this little tiny piece of paradise. He would have to teach her the delicate art of Devil Trigger.

He watched her in the lurid glow of the fireplace in the cabin, wondering if she was angry with him or simply too exhausted to speak. She was wrapped in a blanket, but in spite of the fire and the blanket, she was shivering - all her exertions left her quaking.

He slipped out of his chair and sat next to her.

"Are you okay?"

"I don't feel good."

"You'll be okay." He slipped his arm around her shivering shoulders. He smooched her hair - then jerked in alarm as she turned her head and crushed her mouth against his lips in a hungry - no, demanding kiss that starved for passion. He was lucky her arms were trapped in her blanket, cocooning her from being too physical. But she was still straining to kiss him, and the devil hunter didn't stop her.

Suddenly he didn't care.

"Dante," she whispered breathlessly. "I feel like... like I'm going to explode."

"You and me both." He lifted her off the little sofa and pulled her onto his lap. She opened her blanket like wings and folded her arms around him, and his arms clasped around the small of her back. Now she was straddling his thighs and riding a little high on his hips now. The teenager was older than that innocent runaway so long ago - her skin was burning hot to the touch but lost none of its silkiness, the forbidden allure that a youthful woman in bloom could exude.

She was shuddering and clinging to him as if she would fall apart if she let go.

He held on, as much to keep her safely away from him. But she felt so good, smelled wonderful, her lips continuously seeking his skin, lighting a fire deeper and more persistent than he was able to possibly ignore. He cared so much for her, and he had missed out on being around her so much before this trip, the feel of her against him, her chest pressing against him and the sound of her ragged breathing emulated a scene that played in his hyperactive imagination many a long, lonely, agonizing night.

He arched his back with a low moan. The agitated female ground her hips down, instinct guiding her until she found the best spot to grind against. His hands gripped her hips with a different kind of urgency, yanked between wanting to guide her better and push her away. But she was already too involved in her instinct. She bit at his neck softly, tiny mewls escaping her, her face flushed a vivid shade of pink in the firelight's glow.

It was easy to hide all of this under the blanket. But their combined heat was too much. Dante's head spun. Her hands moved against his stomach, blunted nails raking his skin.

He tipped his head back. "Fuck," he moaned. "Nina. Stop it."

She responded with a plaintive negative growly whine. Her fingers clung weakly on his jean's waistband.

"Think," he snapped at her. "Don't do this. I... can't."

"Damn it!" She exhaled so hard it whistled from her lungs. "Dante, why? I want you. This sucks. It hurts! I love you! Can't we just-"

"I won't be able to stop, Nina. I won't be able to hold it back. When I let loose, all I know how to do is take." His voice was raw with husky need. He had to stop this - now. "I'm not nice."

She squeaked as he pushed her suddenly to the side and stood up. It was suddenly much brighter in here than he remembered it being. His fuzzy thoughts cleared. Now there was an entirely different problem focused somewhere in the vicinity of his jeans - relating to their sudden, persistent tightness.

Any other time, time alone with a girl in the middle of the wilderness would be a damn good thing. But whenever she touched him, he felt like he would just burst apart from the feelings he felt. He remembered Lady's furious looks whenever he was too close to Nina. She never did like it when Dante brought home one night stands whenever he assumed she wasn't going to be home that night. But somehow, the only supernatural power Lady had was the ability to sense when Dante had had a fun night when he came home in the morning. And she always looked so wounded beneath all that wrinkly-nosed fury. Lady looked like nothing less than a furious little bunny when she got angry, but he knew how deadly that anger could get.

Dante couldn't remember the last time somebody warmed his bed since Nina had come to stay with him. He was surrounded by women, and yet the exact opposite of what one would expect had occured in his sex life. He never thought anyone could make his blood boil like Vergil could - and in such an entirely different way. Infuriating, passionate, joyful, laughing girl that she was.

Then there was the whole thing about meeting Nina's mother. He thought about _that _a lot. Christ. He had an idea of how complicated being with Nina could be, but now that seemed absolutely pale in comparison to reality.

Suddenly there was the sound of a door shutting firmly. Nina and her blanket had disappeared from the living room and the warmth of the fire. Her door was shut and there was a pronounced 'click' of the lock.

He glared at the flames with both hands on his hips, willing his hormones to cool. Was this little incident what Lady was referring to about being careful with Nina's feelings?

_I wonder what Vergil would say if he could see me now. Tch. Probably laugh at me for refusing to simply take what I want._

_Or laugh at me for submitting to 'human weakness'._

----

Nina clenched her body into a tight little ball and tried not to squeal in frustration. She felt stupid and so completely unpretty. _He doesn't want me because of Lady he doesn't want me because I'm ugly he doesn't want me because I'm stupid and annoying and I'm just a thorn in his side I cramp his stupid style and he's only here to get me ready to leave him._

Her eyes burned and burned until they felt like they would pop. Then they felt like they did. Stupid tears.

Dante started knocking on her door.

"Dante, back away from that goddamn door if you intend to wake up with all your male faculties intact!!" Wherever this source of rage was coming from, she was vomiting out words of hate like they were music. At the same time, if he kept on persisting, she knew - just knew it! - she would let him in anyway. No matter how disgusting she felt or how much she felt she hated him for pushing her away again.

"Nina, seriously. I'm not going to try and rape you or anything. I'm sorry about that. I just... seriously wish you could understand where I'm coming from when I said that."

"No! I don't understand at all! Enlighten me!" She threw something at the door she found on the bed stand in the dark. "Tell me... really tell me why you won't..." It sounded disgusting to say it. How could she even put it in words? Now that Dante was pouting on the other side of the door?

"If I come in, will you start throwing stuff at me? I kinda don't like carrying on conversations through a door."

"Ugh... I can't look at you right now. I'm... I'm not in a good place right now, okay? Just... go away."

"Do you hate me?"

"Dante!"

"Sorry. Going."

When she felt his aura vanish from just outside the door, she buried her head into the pillow and cried shamefully. She had acted like such a whore as soon as he came near. All her pent-up anger all day had resulted in that... and it made her feel like she could never trust herself to be around him again. Especially if THAT was the kind of reaction she was going to recieve.

Tomorrow was going to be a complete and utter nightmare.


	17. Devil Trigger

**Teenage Girls with Cameras 17**

In the morning, the cabin lay nestled in early morning dawn light. Leaves cast a wonderfully green tint to everything and for the first time in a long time, this family cabin sees life within it again. Every handful of decades, a white-haired son of Sparda disappeared to this cabin to lay low when he sensed a slow period coming up. These rare times did not happen often. But the cabin retreat was a boon to his relaxation and much needed alone time, a place where few people were privy to see him acting in a manner altogether unlike the cocky, self-assured teenager-early twenties cheesy one-liner king everyone knew and loved.

Dante Sparda curled up on the sofa woke up to the familiar dawn light, sleepily taking in the surroundings. For awhile, he was still so embraced by dreams he figured he was still alone. He closed his eyes again, choking back a tiny noise in the back of his throat. Then he threw one arm over his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath, his stomach convulsing with butterflies as reality flooded back in.

All around the sofa on the floor were old photographs of two identical boys grinning at a camera. Some photographs were older, ragged at the edges or so utterly faded it took a long time to discern any familiar shapes in the obscure. Other, newer photoes were still a bit old, but were blurry from motion. Broken silhouettes in half-light, a single figure in a blue coat.

Dante heard Nina's bedroom door open. He didn't move, laying on his back on the sofa, but he was too damn big to fit his whole body on it. So one leg was bent and crooked underneath him, the other leg was off the sofa, flat-footed on the floor. His stomach rose and fell with his breathing.

"Dante?" Nina looked at him for a few long seconds. And for that whole time and afterward, she saw someone completely different. He was a stranger to her. Not because he looked like he was actually sleeping in, but he seemed to have transformed into something exhausted, strung out, and, in spite of being preserved in such a beautiful body, unknowably ancient.

Nina had her clean clothes bunched together for her shower, still wearing the clothes from yesterday which she had slept in. And her towel was already in the bathroom, as well as all her showering supplies. She smiled fondly at the sleepy Dante, trying to understand him a little more, before she walked away to wash off all the dried sweat from yesterday.

Dante's brother was gone and it must feel very lonely to come up here where there had to be many painful, heart-wrenching memories. Did Dante and Vergil live here with their parents when they were both still alive?

If Nina could see him smile today, it would be great. Not the kind of smile that was for everyone else but a smile that glowed from deep within, from every pore of his being. She wanted to make him smile like that... and that was way more important than whether she could give her body to him. Some things were more important than sex, she remembered hearing her mother say. It seemed like trite advice at the time, the kind of advice you expect to hear. But somehow it made a little more sense. Even though she wanted to express her love to Dante in that way, it was proving impossible.

It just made him indescribably uncomfortable. She blushed all over, trying to dispel the feverish memory. Then she stared at her blurry, foggy reflection in the mirror while she brushed her teeth. While she fixed herself with a furious stare, she swore that she would work extra, extra hard today on her Devil Trigger lesson Dante had promised her. (_What's a Devil Trigger? What does it the 'trigger' part refer to?_)

The Devourer experience had left her exhausted. Getting stabbed through your middle did that to you. Sometimes she felt as if she only skimmed the surface of something much bigger, something that burned much hotter within her that was only just eating away the waxy inside. Maybe it had something to do with that little voice that spoke to her. The part of her that wasn't quite schitzophrenia but more like demonic possession - only... not really.

In the end, she wondered if it had something to do with what Dante had to teach her today. If he ever woke up, that is.

She was drying off when she noticed her left hand was prickling again. She had learned long ago to trust it as a sign that something was wrong enough to alert her inner instinct. With a soft curse, she swept her clothes up and started to dress herself quickly even though she was still speckled with drops of water.

Dante wasn't on the sofa. He wasn't in the living room. He wasn't even in the kitchen. She picked up the photos where they had been scattered and tried to organize them neatly, then put them on the coffee table beside a half-empty bottle of Jack. It was miraculous if he had slept at all.

Nina was amazed she had gone to sleep after parting so sourly with him last night. She felt ashamed of herself because of her poor handling of a situation for which she was so ill prepared. She was going to have to act like an adult if she wanted Dante to trust her.

So she picked up a wooden sword from outside and got ready to do some hard core work. She was even more sore than she was yesterday. Each and every muscle was burning like fire. After half an hour, she wanted to quit. Even though Dante was nowhere in sight to yell at her, she pretended that he was watching - and her imagination was strong enough to push herself even further.

In another couple of hours, she staggered inside feeling sick to her stomach. She had been unable to really concentrate, so she ran along the pebble-lined shore of the river, back and forth, back and forth. Exhausted, thirsty, and hungry was not a good combination. She quickly whipped together something to eat and walked outside with her water and salad and glared into the woods. She shouted, "Dante!"

Only the hissing of water on the stony sandy beach. The birds calling in the semi-dark, furtive noises of animals farther away. She stood still, helplessly holding a salad in one hand and her water in the other. She quivered a bit, then went indoors once more to eat. Finished, she only returned outside with her bikini intact. The woods were indeed pretty furtive. And Dante had gone and abandoned here. She tried to remember how much food he had bought and how much was left, and realized he can't be gone if he expected her to get on with just a few things left in there. A couple meals left. Charcoal by the door for their little campfire grill.

Nina grabbed the wooden sword by the door first, then hesitated. She selected the sword she had been eyeballing, the one above the mantelpiece. It was light and lovely and deadly, deadly sharp. She normally would never dare to use such a thing, but if this was an emergency, she needed more than one weapon to get her through the day. That's what Dante would do, anyway.

"I don't want to use the weapon I was born with," she muttered, looking at her left hand and flexing her fingers after securing the weapon to her sturdist belt (of the two she owned). "But I will if I got to. I think this is important and something that I have to do… alone." As she stood in the doorway, her breath shuddered out of her. A breath of fear and trepidation.

There was a long trail she found by exploring the property with a more judgmental eye. It took a pathway that followed almost the entire length of the river. It was thick and overgrown with flowers and ferns. But if she was really critical, she would have sworn she saw broken leaves and signs of passage through them. She was dressed down, because it was actually quite a hot day like yesterday. Thick mulchy ground covered the forest floor, but here it was harder packed. If it could have been a deer trail, then it was now a person trail. Ancient highway through the woods, following the talkative river. The hidden highways of life. She wondered why she had chosen this particular path to follow and whether Dante had taken it as well.

The sun was growing higher in the sky. It was a little past 8am. It was gorgeous and cool under the tree tops. But the woods were dark and held equally dark secrets.

Suddenly a thought occured to Nina, one she had thought and forgotten a few days ago. Had Dante played in the woods as a kid with his twin brother, Vergil? Did they play as friends or did they fight as bitter rivals always?

Nina grumbled under her breath when she started to travel by the river side, not wanting to get lost, but slowly beginning to encounter thick brambles as the path she used dwindled to nothing. Or more likely, it had swerved away from the river and toward the rising elevation sweeping the country side. Now she was struggling through thick brush. Quickly, it became impassable. So she turned inland, but saw only endless woods.

"What the hell am I doing?" she growled in frustration. But then she turned and looked across the now calm, deep section of the river. The woods grew thinner on that side, possibly because of the nutrient rich sediment collected on the outside of the river's bend, where the green life took advantage of it.

Across the river, she saw a broad-shouldered man standing across, mirroring her, watching.

"Hey!" she shouted.

The man didn't move. Instinctively she knew it was not Dante but someone else.

"Great. I've just encountered the Mountain Man of Devil's Hills." She grimaced and withdrew into the forest, and the man across the river vanished as she clambored into some clearer forest, scraping knees on tree bark and pricking her fingers on sharp new tree branches.

When it was within a reasonable belief that she was getting herself completely and totally lost, she clenched her teeth and simply held back her anger. It was no point getting upset. She would just listen for the sound of the river - which she could just barely make out - and follow it back to the cabin. It wasn't a big deal. And then she would jog back along the trail and find Dante sitting on the porch with a cold one balanced between his legs, with his feet up on the porch railing and looking at her with that cute-demeaning-fancy-meeting-you-here smirk--

Suddenly she heard a twig snap and, after hearing only birdsong and rivers, she spun to respond to it, and was surprised to find that she had drawn her sword without even thinking about it. The forest carried only the silence of sudden death.

Just one clue. That was all Nina was given, and she still had no idea where the sound had come from. Fear plucked at her pulse. Just a breath of air warned her before the blow came from above - from the very trees.

The figure came down, all in forest camo, face masked and his form disrupted by the mottled green grays that he was tightly clad in. His build was unfamiliar to her from the odd bunching that disguised him. But he made not a single grunt or noise as he fell down on her, his arm crashing against the top of her shoulders. She fell straight to the ground, her sword skidding out of her grasp.

Nina saw nothing but blurred forest landscape. The man lifted her by the back of her shirt, which tore with a sickening rip. Then she was flying through the air, tumbling sideways and her arms twisted up in the twigs and branches. She was scratched up for only a handful of seconds; just because she healed quickly did not mean it still didn't hurt as much.

She sprang to her feet as soon as she heard footsteps pounding in her direction. Her legs bunched as she dove out of the way just before the man slammed his fist into the earth, sending a shockwave through the fallen leaves and pine needles. Her sword was half buried beneath some ferns. She snatched it back up again and rounded on her enemy, whose camoflage had made him disappear completely.

Infuriated, her pulse racing and her skin creepy-crawling with that very familiar, welcome sensation of her demonic blood, she glared into the surrounding trees. "Coward! Can't face me like a man? Just gonna beat up a girl from the shadows? Big brave guy like you?" She snarled as she caught a movement. Her dander was up now; she was going to royally cut him a new physiological feature that was superfluous to his digestive tract.

Her attacker rushed in again. She was swinging faster than she had ever before, but he still managed to duck and weave like a pro champ even out of reach of her sword. She was getting impatient. It was about time she threw him to the floor like a rag doll and curbstomped his face into some granite.

Maybe she would have asked where Dante was if she was concerned. Right now, she was not. She was angry, and she felt an imperceptible tension growing throughout all her body that was both like a constriction and like something being freed. She was struck again and again. But she slashed and weaved and advanced without feeling any of the pain - was it because he wasn't hitting her hard at all or was that her imagination? She pirouetted to face him again, not letting him out of her sight for an instant. She was panting heavily. Her own breath tasted like copper; she leaped after him when he started to flee, darting and jumping over obstacles like a springbuck.

If this was just a game, Nina had missed the memo. She cut him off near the river, flanking him just to give herself enough room to take a rushing dive at him. She dropped the sword, not quite thinking with her logical brain as she took him out at the waist and sent them both splashing over the bank of the river and into the cold rushing waters.

Everything was dark and red tinted. Nina felt the same constriction growing, overpowering the sensation of being unleashed - or something being unleashed from her. It was like the first day her arm had tried to peel away her human self and reveal her inner lineage. It was growing stronger, only it was all over, but instead of pain it was bliss. Instead of crying out in pain, she wanted to laugh. Nina's shirt was ripped, she was covered in pine needles and leaves and dirt and now, standing knee-deep in the river, she was soaking wet while her attacker stood up slowly after they had regained their feet in the slippery river.

"What now?" she whispered. She didn't dare take her eyes off of him, as if she could look nowhere else. His camo was soaked to the bone, sticking to him, but the camo mask had yet to come off, even though she could see there was water seeping out of it.

He reached for his belt.

"Don't-"

The girl rushed at him, but in the water, it was impossible to get the speed she wanted to stop him. He grabbed something purple and shiny and clenched it in his fist when she approached. But he lost his balance again and she clawed at his mask to disorient him. THen he punched her in the face with the purple shiny. Her neck burned when her head snapped left and was suddenly in pain. Water exploded all around them; her vision blurred once again and now, her head was exploding and her ears roaring with the sound of water and her own rushing tempo.

She choked and sputtered on water, still clawing for his face but of course it was slippery. The water closed over her head a second and third time while they fought to get their footing again first. But he won this time; his boots dug into the thick mushy river bottom with spikes. Then he closed his hands around her throat and shoved her head under the water while she kicked and flailed violently.

Her head stayed under for good this time.

* * *

Dante squeezed his fingers tighter. She kept fighting, but he was determined to keep her under. His mask was full of water and he was having a hard time getting air from around it, but he didn't dare let go to take it off. For one, if she came up for air like he was going to allow her in a moment, she would see who it was and may never trust him again. Second, if she did come up when she wasn't ready, she'd lose the effect and it would be over.

He could practically see the demonic rage clocking up higher, the coil inside her winding ever tighter. In order for her to get her Devil Trigger to snap, it would take just a little bit more. And when he punched her, the Devil Star he had taken with him disappeared and melted right into her - just as he hoped it would.

He really did not want to smash her bloody to get it to work. After all, she could beat up Dante all day, but it would not be enough to awaken her Devil Trigger for the first time.

He could still remember the way it felt when he woke up that rainy day, Vergil's Yamato and Dante's Rebellion still leaving a terrible ache in his belly. He had felt like a goddamn freight train had ran over his head a couple few times and the rest of his body covered in bruises, cuts, batters. But his body was whole, there were no scars. And everything inside of him just... snapped.

Just as she would. Even under the cold water rushing by them, his fingers around her throat could feel her pulse racing and her skin was burning hot to the touch. "Come on," he hissed.

Every moment he held her, the more he hated himself.

Nina's fingers clamped down around his wrists finally, her splashing growing less fervent.

"Save yourself!"

He saw her eyes pop open under water just for a moment, before she bared her teeth and her last breath bubbled up to obscure her face. Then there was an immense flash of heat that seared the water. Steam exploded from every direction and burned Dante. He fell backward into deeper water and pedaled water for a moment while a fountain of water and motion surged from the river like a gray, cold volcano. At its center, something clad in something like full-body, plated purple armor - gleaming like the shell of a beetle, now that he thought of it - glowed. No, it seemed to radiate around her like a corona, sputtering and flickering unsteadily. It only lasted for a fraction of a second before he saw the armored creature sink as if deflated, and the current took it.

He dove after her, ripping off the face mask and tossing it to shore. His arms and legs swelled with muscle as he rushed after her. He grabbed her by her upper arm and guided her head above water as he bounced along the river bottom with the current until he could pull her up onto the grassy bank.

She coughed and hacked unpleasantly before opening her eyes. She did not see him, which was just as well. She just gazed at the sky as if she had never seen it before.

Then, when she wanted to go back to sleep, he picked her up and slung her over his shoulder to get her back to the cabin. He knew these forests like the back of his hand, cutting across the shortest path. He wanted no more part of torturing Nina; he already felt like taking a hot, scalding shower feeling like the slimeball in a dark noir film that tortures people for information.

He laid her on the porch in the sun, letting her get warm. He toweled off her hair and then went inside to get changed. It was in the afternoon and there was still enough time to get dinner on the table before she woke up feeling like she had a bad day at the train yard - what with train engines falling on her all day long, you know.

He got back into his usual street attire and threw the camo into the fire. He could always borrow some money and buy more, but he had a feeling he wouldn't need to after today. He stoked the flames with the last of the firewood and roasted some hot dogs, watching her obsessively out of the corner of his blue eyes.

Almost on cue, the scent of food roused her. She rolled over and crawled into the cabin through the open door, then bumped into the stove with her forehead and grunted in confusion.

He whistled. "The food's this way, girl."

"Unh. Hot dog." It did not occur to her that going about on the floor was hardly a good way to start the day. Or that it made her look almost unnaturally cute.

"Yeah, it's over here. Not on the stove." Dante waved a pair of hot dog tongs at her. When she crept over and huddled by the flames, he was anxious she would notice the odd shape of the kindling. "Are you still tired?"

"I don't know. I feel six flavors of weird and energized. I don't know what to call it..." She took a deep breath and seemed to shake off the odd sleepiness. "I feel... great. Like, amazing." She started suddenly. "That man! Where did he go?"

"I found you on the river's edge and brought you back here. I told him not to hurt you, but you seemed a bit banged up."

Nina looked at Dante for a long time, her heart in her throat. She knew he was lying - she knew the strange instinct was telling her it was Dante in the camoflage. But she would never say it out loud or even think it. "Oh. Well. I'm glad I'm not dead. I guess... what happened was what you expected, right? Am I supposed to feel like an elephant sat on me and like I could take on the US army at the same time?"

"Yep." He licked his fingers and started to make the hotdogs. He knew Nina liked pretty much everything on her hotdog - piled as much as possible. Ketchup, mustard, onions. "And it only gets better with time."

"Great."

They ate. While they did so, Nina checked her cell phone - one that Lady had bought her on a paranoia kick in case something horrible happened to her. She had one message; the little screen blinked cheerfully at her. It was from Lady's number. It was a couple of hours old. While she listened, she put it on speaker to free her hands to eat a third hot dog.

Lady's voice came in, a bit crackly due to the bad signal. "Nina, tell Dante to end whatever little love vacation you've got going on. I just got a call from Trish. Someone's taken your mom."


	18. Elizabeth

**A/N**: Oh wow. I've started reading this neat little series whose maine character is female. Her name is Dante Valentine. She is a Necromance. But she gets involved with demons AND somewhere down the line, 'becomes' half-demon.... Copy right infringement or what? If anyone's interested, the author is Lilith Saintcrow and the first novel is Working For the Devil.

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**Teenage Girls With Cameras, Chapter 18**

As soon as Lady's message had been finished, Dante's eyes were narrowed and his knuckles were clutching the edge of his plate.

The message continued, "I don't know who has her, but she has been missing for about a day now. Nina's dad has had police start looking and everything. Wherever the hell you two are, stop swapping spit and get back here. Pronto."

"Mom?" Nina looked at her phone as if expecting her mother's voice to answer. Maybe to say, _Nah, it's all a joke. Don't know where you are, honey, but I love you and I hope you're happy!_

But nothing came. Just a silence with finality to it. "Okay. My mom's gone and my dad's probably going crazy looking for her. Knowing him, he's probably got every police officer from all three surrounding counties looking for her too." She sucked in a breath and let it out, whimpering. "But where... where's my mom? And how does Lady know someone just took her instead of her just... being missing?"

Dante put his plate down and slid onto the sofa - the same one he slept on last night and now his least favorite place when Nina was in the same room. But he was thinking about something else now. "I don't know your mom all that well. I only met her once, when we visited together. She doesn't seem like the type to just kind of stay out without telling anyone - or even leave the house at all. She doesn't seem absent-minded or frivolous."

"I really don't want to think that someone has kidnapped my mom right now." It seemed like that was exactly had happened, though. Suddenly her elation evaporated and her mouth dried up.

The male stood up suddenly. "We don't have to wait until tomorrow to go home. I had an emergency ride in case something came up. Which it did." There was a steely, scary fire in his eyes. Something Nina had never seen before. It was the same fire that had filled his eyes when Nina had been impaled by a Vergil possessed Nathaniel. Nina was understandably impressed by that look - and also concerned. If Dante was worried, then Nina had twice as much reason to be afraid for her mother.

He snatched her cell phone away from her and dialed a number - glued to his memory for good reason. It was an old friend of his. She was one of few demons he had spared in his hunts; she was just trying to seek a peaceful end to an artificial existence. He had everything about this demon woman memorized, simply because he had to keep an eye on her all the same. He would never fully trust anything that claimed full demonic lineage, or even three-quarters. But he could ask her for anything simply because he had given her her life and a chance to prove that she could live peacefully among humans - if she was closely leashed by magical wards put in place by Dante himself.

Her name was Elizabeth among humans now. But to Dante, she would always be the nameless demon child raised among humans - and treated like a tool until she escaped with her master's blood on her hands. Dante had taken the hit without knowing all the details but Fate had determined that he was going to find out the hard way. Oh, he had a lot to say to the man who thought he could master a demon child and use her to make his business threats more intimidating with some fire and brimstone to back them. He certainly had a lot to say about the way he validated using the girl for sex. Being a demon did not make childhood any less valued among demon kind - even if the idea of childhood could be argued as nonexistent among those of full blood.

The sad truth was Dante spared her and gave the man a beating he would never forget - and came out with less money than was promised since he helped Elizabeth try to get on her feet and financed a couple of college courses for her to take in secret. Then he helped her find a job she enjoyed and now she was working as a dancer at a gentlemen's club in a smallish city just off the state route - a road that cut through the forest where Dante's childhood cabin was.

"Lizzie?"

Nina watched him, ignoring the flare of possessiveness. _Of course_, she reminded herself. _He knows lots of females. Stop being such a man-hoarder and just shush._

"Dante," the feminine voice breathed. She didn't sound winded, but she did sound... busy. "I haven't heard from you in eighteen months and twelve days."

"Hey!" Dante greeted cheerfully. "Sorry about the long-time-no-call. Are you sore about that?"

"I don't know. If I said I couldn't care if I never saw you or heard from you again, would that answer your question?"

"Aww... Kiddo, don't be like that. You know how busy I am. I'm doing you a favor, see. Other demons would go after you, thinking you're getting special treatment."

"But I'm a good girl who never gets into any trouble, right?" The voice on the line was sultry and husky, but Lizzie always tended to sound sleepy and horny. It was just the way she was. "I dance, Dante. Not a lot else to think about - except you and when you're going to surprise-visit me again. I was beginning to think my pantry and I were safe. Guess I was wrong."

"You're only safe as long as you behave yourself. And you have been, I know. This isn't about that. I actually would like to ask you a teensy widdle favor." Dante waited. Then he asked tentatively, "Do you still have a car?"

Lizzie seemed to sigh in exasperation. "Yes."

"Can you drive me somewhere?" His eyes flashed with that same intensity. Obviously he wanted to be polite, but time was of the essence. "It's kind of an emergency... and I can't afford to wait for the bus."

"Cabin?"

"Just think of it as a thank you. Unless you'd prefer a spell-padded jail cell, metal accessories, no nourishment..."

It was no joke. Nina had no idea what Dante was talking about, but she knew he was reminding someone of a debt owed - a long-standing debt that probably would never end as long as it was convenient to Dante. He sure knew how to push a deal. She sighed and watched him smile into the phone with such a sense of self-assurance, she almost felt sorry for this Lizzie lady.

Almost.

"Fine. Where are you and how soon do you need me?"

"In an hour, some fifteen or so miles down the state highway. You'll see two pathetic hitch hikers loitering on the shoulders going south."

"Two?" She heaved a gigantic sigh. "I'll clean out the car as fast as I can, okay? And, uh, where exactly are you going?"

"Just get here. I don't sweat the details, remember? See you in a few." Lizzie hung up first before he finished the last sentence. He made a pouty face and gently handed the phone back to Nina.

"Can we count on that Lizzie girl?" It was so hard to keep jealousy out of her voice. Dante pretended not to notice it anyway to avoid an argument.

"If she knows what's good for her." He slid his hands under his shirt to scratch at his belly. "This isn't easy to say, but she's kind of under an oath. As long as she doesn't hurt any humans, she can stay up here and make an honest living all she likes. Now get your stuff together. Guess I'll throw the food outside for the animals. We're going home right now."

"And then we're going to my house? What about my mom?"

Dante was tossing things haphazardly on top of his jacket, just making sure it was all together. "I don't know, Nina."

"Will she be okay? Do you think someone who knows about my real father took her or something? Half-demons just don't happen out of the blue, so maybe..."

"I don't know!" He huffed, shooting a look at the ceiling as if cursing whatever gods lay hidden up there. _All in good humor, eh?_ he thought furiously. "Hurry up, Nina. Please."

Nina ran back to her room and chucked things into her bag. She hurried into the bathroom and shoved the rest of her stuff into the little pockets. Then she joined Dante chucking food out the door and stuffing the plastic bags under the sink. Within five minutes they were practically jogging through the woods. Her body felt like it could take another beating like the one before; amazing how a little nap could restore her so much. Is that why Dante sleeps so much? she wondered, giddily trying not to think about whether her mother was dead or alive.

"Where the fuck is she?!" Nina snarled as she prowled back and forth in a ten foot area along the highway's shoulder. "I'm getting annoyed. I wish you'd told her it was about my mom. Then maybe it would've lit a bigger fire under her stupid ass."

Dante did not agree nor disagree. But he was standing with his foot tapping, a picture of impatience. Then a rusted green car rolled up to them and a woman with long golden hair peered from behind a pair of enormous shades. She looked Nina up and down and smiled without baring her teeth. "Get in, ladies."

Dante threw Nina's bag into the passenger back seat and slid into the front seat. Nina climbed in, trying not to touch the odd stain on the back seat. It smelled strongly of cigarettes and a strange scent like burning cinnamon.

Then the car was rushing headlong down the highway at well over the speed limit. Now that she was closer to this Elizabeth, Nina could see that not only was her hair long and golden and straight, it practically glowed. The windows were tinted to keep the sunlight from glittering from it. Her eyes were sheilded as well, which probably suggested a weakness to daylight. Her skin was also a dark coppery color that had a strange metallic luminscence. She was skinny and perfect and wore a long dark brown peacoat over straight blue jeans and stiletto-heeled boots.

Nina cracked open her window.

"Dante," Elizabeth said. "Aren't you going to introduce to me to your famous friend?"

"Famous?" Nina squeaked.

"Everyone's heard about the little halfie girl who has the untouchable Dante Sparda by the balls," the demon said. "And about how you fumbled an attempt to help him stop the Devourer from taking over the world. In fact, that's what I was going to ask you about. How ever _did_ you manage to stop it?"

"Oh, you know. A little sweet talking and the Devourer was as pleasant as pie." Dante's reflection in the side view mirror was grinning. "It was just a big misunderstood baby."

"Oh, I see. So. Prince Charming, where are we going?"

"To my office. Then you can go home."

"God!" Elizabeth squeezed the steering wheel. "You can be ever so damn cold! Aren't you gonna offer me gas money or something? Or a little something else? You promised me nourishment. You know how hard it is to come by for a girl all by herself in the big wide world?"

"Don't play that game with me. You'll lose. And you get all you need from work. I'll give you gas money. That's it."

Nina was thinking, gulping the fresh air from her cracked open window. Her eyes were watering with the freakish smell of the car. _I want to know if she knows anything about my mother. If she would know anything about my father. I wonder if there's some kind of demonic half-spawn registry in Hell that demons have to sign onto if they accidently get pricked_. But the question froze up on her tongue. Elizabeth angered her and scared her a little at the same time. This was another one of Dante's unapproachable, strange friends.

The car drive ended in a surprising amount of time. As soon as Elizabeth came within city limits, she slowed down but dove through shortcuts she thought only Dante knew. In a way, she was glad to see the familiar sign blinking in the half-light of a cloudy day. Sunlight had been choked off by clouds. Was this town always so dark?

"Get out of my car. I'll wait." Elizabeth sounded winded. As if even being near Dante hurt her.

Nina jumped out in a New York minute and hurried inside, leaving her bag by the door. Lady looked up from her phone, calling numbers, keeping in touch with Trish maybe. Her face was full of shock.

"How the hell did you get here so fast?"

"We used the Force," Dante explained. "Do you have any money?"

"What the... No, Dante, I don't. What do you need money for now?"

"I got a ride and it's only polite. Now, pretty please with a cherry on top?" He sauntered over and held out his hands placatingly, like a beggar, his eyes glinting with his natural charm.

Lady's lips quirked downward and her scar wrinkled. Finally she dug into her pocket and gave him a ten. "Christ."

"Thank you, Lady!" He ran back outside, thrust the ten dollar bill through the driver's side window and came back inside without even a backward glance. Elizabeth seemed all too eager to drive as far away from here as quickly as possible.

"Was that Lizzie?" Lady asked him, a little more kindly. "She seemed upset."

"She's always mad at me. As if I was the one who whipped her until she had no skin left on her bones. I'm not sure I blame her, though." Dante remembered how he didn't exactly hurry to get to her rescue, and when he did, she had never been granted a chance for revenge. Dante had had handled all that for her. She had never been his best friend in the world since. She was still a demon all the same to him, too. So the feeling was almost mutual, if a bit bittersweet.

"Well, you did get here in a hurry. And that's good." Lady tried not to look at Nina. She was fluttery and fidgety, which was not quite like Lady at all. "Anyway. Trish had called me a few hours ago. She's following your dad right now, because he seems to be the only one actively 'looking'... and she has an odd feeling he's on the right track."

The word dad to Nina sounded like a dirty word. She knew her human father was no longer someone related by blood. She had realized a long time ago how much sense it suddenly made. Her father was always a bit aloof around her, but he was loving and caring enough for a child under his protection.

"He's not my father," Nina said without really any emotion. "But we'll just say he is for now, okay?"

Dante disappeared into his bedroom for a minute, and Nina stayed downstairs, fidgeting.

"What did you do?" Lady whispered suddenly.

"He beat me up and my Devil Trigger woke up. That's about it." Nina laughed. "I wish I could say I still had the bruises to prove it. But I don't."

"There _is_ something different about you," Lady said thoughtfully. Kept whatever was left ot it to herself.

Nina swallowed guiltily and went about looking for something clean to wear. She desperately wanted a shower and to get clean. She had been so infuriated when Elizabeth said Nina had Dante "by the balls". It was totally not true.

In a few moments, Nina was scrubbing away the smell of the woods and that demon bitch's car with a fury she rarely afforded. Her skin turned a bright shade of pink. She spoke under her breath as she dried off quickly.

"Do you know what's going on?"

Her mind buzzed and her left arm prickled a little bit. _Ever since we got into that car, the demon woman rubbed us the wrong way. I don't like it._

"Well, at least we agree on one thing. Do you know if my mother is safe?"

_I can't say. I'm not connected to her._

"Do you think she is?" Nina brushed her hair back from her face, her red eyes blinking back at her in the foggy mirror. "You can be honest. You always are."

_I don't think anyone is safe among demons, my dear._

Nina dressed with a new urgency, wanting to get ready as quickly as possible, even if she was beginning to lose that high that came with opening herself to her demonic side. Letting herself fill up with her own power, like a cup overflowing. She glared ar her annoying reflection and stomped outside again, hands on her hips. "All right, I'm ready. Let's get the fuck out of here!"

But it was mysteriously silent in the shop. Nothing stirred except a cheerless breeze from the broken front windows.

Nina hadn't heard a damn thing from the bathroom. Not just 'barely heard', but as if the shower was surrounded by some kind of dampening field.

The desk was on its side, several objects were shoved around and Nina was alone. She backed up against the wall next to the bathroom door. She heard a pair of muffled voices arguing in the toppled weapon case.

"Agni and Rudra?" The teenager quickly ran over and grunted with the effort to turn it over, so she could open it.

"What's going on?" she demanded of the blue and red Chinese broadsword-like weapons.

"Do you think we would know, half-human? We've been locked in here all day, we saw nothing at all!"

Nina picked them up and looked at the speaking hilts. Her eyes sparked with annoyance. "All right, then what did you _hear_? Fighting? An argument?" Hell, if Lady and Dante had decided to finally put it all out on the table - bullet casings and all - then this was going to take a lot longer to find her dad before demons did - or worse.

"Windows shattering - voices yelling - gunfire, Dante's guns. And then footsteps beating a hasty retreat."

"Okay. That's all I needed to know." As she returned them to the case, she winced. "Sorry, guys. I can't use you very well. You'll have to stay put."

"Be careful! It's bound to be dangerous out there. It sounded like a lot of foes for Dante to face."

"I'll be fine." Nina had to admit, she was attached to those swords. They had once said to her that any friend of Dante Sparda was their friend also. She was oddly touched by their concern - even if they should have been inanimate objects without an opinion about anything. "Thank you."

"Hurry!" Agni and Rudra said at the same time.

Nina snapped the cupboard shut and rushed outside, her wet hair bouncing.

The street was darker than before; Nina's instincts prickled all over, unhappily testing the atmosphere for a familiar presence. But it was dead quiet and there was not a single car coming or going in front of the shop. An empty plastic bag bounced eerily in front of her and that was all. Then Nina heard the distant snarl of a motorcycle - it was Lady's Jap import grinding around the corner. Dante was perched on the back, crouching, Ebony glittering in his hand.

"Did we get a cranky visitor or something?"

"Elizabeth left us a few friends. A message, I guess. I'll have words for her, believe you me." Dante dusted off broken glass from his shoulders. "She's _really_ mad at me for some reason."

"Do you think she knows what happened?" Nina asked.

"I think she's in on it. But like she said, I haven't spoken to her in over a year. It's not like her to suddenly plot against me - especially since I have something over her head she can't do anything about."

"I guess that's enough reason to find a way around it," Lady muttered as she tugged the helmet from her head. Her flippant hair style bristled in the wind. "And over a year is a long enough time to find a way, especially if someone is persistent."

"It doesn't matter! We've got to get on the road and find my mom." Nina practically stamped her foot in agitation, but it was all understandable. Taken in stride. So Lady climbed off the motorcycle and the three of them bundled into what was left of Dante's car. Luckily the windshield wasn't broken. So they rushed back through the traffic toward Nina's house. In the car, she punched Alia's number.

"I'm going away for awhile. My mom's in trouble. Don't worry. Lady and Dante are safe with me." She blinked. She hadn't meant to say it like that; she was the one being protected most of the time. She laughed and left the message be. It was too late to change it anyway.


	19. Momnapped

A/N: OMG WILL IT NEVER END??? Okay. Here it is. Chapter NINE-FRIGGIN'-TEEN. I'm a bit overwhelmed right now. I've got many fanfics need writin', and not lots of energy and time to do it at all. But here, I've produced another chapter.

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The wind was cold and pitiless on Nina's face as she sat with her window rolled down, hoping maybe with some kind of sick imaginative leap that her tears would freeze up in their ducts before they embarassingly fell down her face. Her family was involved. Her mom was gone. Her dad was on some suicidal search for her. Her human father was just that: human. Nothing would hurt so much than to see him die for someone he loved... and it would be all Nina's fault.

For the fifth time she forced herself not to say it out loud. _I should have stayed. I should have stayed behind and kept an eye on mom and dad._

Then another voice, a familiar nagging male tone, something she should be used to by now, cut into her silent monologue. _You needed me._ She felt the prickling sensation on her arm, the invisible scars of her first awakening sliding beneath her skin, like a satin sheet doused with poison.

She stared at the backs of her hands, her white knuckles, the veins pulsing beneath her skin. "Dante? When I find out who took my mom... I'm going to unleash fucking Hell on them. Now that I can do that Devil Trigger thing, I can do whatever I want."

Suddenly a thought occured to her, which sent a cold ice water splash on all her anger. Suddenly she channeled it all toward that realization. "Wait a minute." She leaned forward, gripping the headrest of Dante's seat. "Devil Trigger! Why didn't you do it before?! You said it was... it was..."

"It doesn't work like that," he said with a gusting sigh. His hair was blown about by the wind from her window. His lips were drawn tight, not even a ghost of a smile.

"What do you mean? Can't you just - you know, BOOM! - like that, and--"

"I have to build it up. I have to continue to fight for a long time. It's all about the adrenaline, the power... Kinda like filling those things at a carnival, shoot water in, it goes up, bang. Then when the time is right, I can let it go in short bursts or wait until it's completely full. Practically bursting at the seams. But if I don't let it full up, I get kind of..."

"Lazy?" Lady suddenly supplied. "About as physically inert as a rock. That describes you pretty well when you're on downtime."

"Oh." Nina paused for thought "You mean I have to charge myself like a battery? What the hell am I, a damn cell phone?!"

"Your anger problem will definitely counteract the whole adrenaline thing," Dante jabbed. "You get pissed pretty much every day, so you're set to go at any minute."

The teenager dug her fingernails into the upholstry. "I'm going to _end_ you. Can't you drive any faster, Lady?"

Already Nina was beginning to miss Alia and her completely neutral conversations. She could never angry at her, but the downside was she always felt at a loss about what to say. Since there were never any expectations, though, she was never afraid of disappointing Alia. The creature that had once been her best friend in high school was suddenly more interesting.

Lady focused on the road, her dual-colored peepers crinkled at the corners. This was a Lady smile. "We're almost there."

"My Spidey senses tells me nothin'," Dante said. The mood in the car changed a little. Impatience stained the air. The woman, the son of Sparda, and the half-demon girl all felt it, as the car glided through her hometown streets. There was the grocery store where she used to get milk and random odds and ends when her mom was in a baking mood; there was the liquior store where her father made infrequent visits, sometimes for holidays. Then there was her school. Not far away was her house, and there were was a police officer parked in front of her house speaking to her father. Her eyes welled with tears of joy and relief, until it was squashed by the fact that she realized her father was crying as they slid closer.

_I'm not so sure I want to get out of the car_, she thought suddenly. _I don't know how well I'll be recieved in my dad's time of need._

The car halted. The police officer's stance shifted noticably. A certain tenseness that was masked beneath a relaxed look on his face.

"I know that guy," Dante said happily. He got out of the car first from the passenger side and approached the officer and Nina's father.

"Hey, Tim."

"Dante Sparda? Since when did you become the Go-To man for missing people?" Tim had a nice looking face, but he also had that unremarkable 'police man' look about him that most law enforcement in small towns affected. He smiled at Dante a little bit, too. So that meant they were on reasonably good terms. Surprising.

Lady stepped out of the car into the chilled air, slipping into her jacket. Nina slunk out of the back seat, staring at her dad who looked first at the car, then Dante, Lady, before finally resting his bloodshot eyes on his long-lost daughter.

Tim flinched when he exploded. He ran toward her and grabbed her by her shoulders. "Damn it, Nina!! What the hell are you doing!? You ran off for god knows how long, and now your mother is missing before you show up again!? What the hell is wrong with you!? It's your fault she's gone! She went looking for you--"

"Sir," Tim said politely, stepping in between them as much as her father's iron grip on her shoulders would allow. "I'll have to ask to you remain calm."

Nina yanked back from her father, tears of anger and frustration stinging her eyes. "What's the matter, dad? Pissed that you found out I'm not your daughter? Or is it the fact that I'm not completely human that kicked the wind out of your sails?" The words vomited out of her mouth before she could stop them.

The man she used to call her father was broadshouldered and strong. The last time she remembered him was not a fond memory. She had come back from running away the first time some odd months ago, felt like a year. Mom and dad were shopping for her as if an apology for not being good enough parents. Her father had yelled at her then, too. Only that time, he was just scared she would flee again. Now she wondered if he couldn't wait for her to get away. However, she couldn't believe she had slaughtered him with those words. He seemed to deflate like a Macy's Day balloon.

"No one said anything about that," he whispered brokenly. His head hung down. Then he let his hands fall to his sides and turned to Dante. "Are you the guy who took my... took Nina away? My wife mentioned you at times, thinking you might have been involved."

Dante was standing off with her father. She suddenly remembered his name, as if that was important. She had to call him Robert now. "Yeah. Sorry about that."

"What kind of bullshit story did you put into her head?" Robert hissed dangerously. "Talking of demons and everything else! What, has this entire town lost their goddam minds?!"

Dante sighed dramatically. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way, old man. But this is my job now. It's personal for me too. Whatever took Nina's mom is gonna pay. And we'll bring her back as safely as possible. In the meantime, you should stay home and don't get yourself in any deeper than you want to be." He looked at Robert, an intensity in those blue eyes that put Robert into his place. Or maybe it was the giant sword strapped to his back and the guns on his hips that made him swallow his tongue.

"All right. Tell us how it happened. Walk us through this. And we need to see any and all pictures your forensics team took if there was a scene."

"No scene. She just... disappeared. There's no telling where she went, because she just picked up and went, according to Mr. Robert. All the time we've been searching the woods, playing fields of the school, the highway. We've put out a missing person's alert."

Nina stormed past her father toward the front step. "I'm going inside."

"Nina!" Robert raged as soon as he found his voice.

The teenager whipped around, her energy crackling. "Listen, dickhead. I've lived with you for the better part of my life. I may not be related to you by blood, but she's still my mom, got it? If you get in my way, I _will_ put you through the damn wall!"

"Can we please remain calm?" Tim said firmly, pointedly looking at Robert. He laid a hand on his shoulder to let him know that in his presence, any actions toward anyone in violence will give him an uncomfortable predicament in jail. Dante stayed outside, hands on his hips, while speaking with Tim - probably arranging that Dante have any access to the information involved with the disappearance.

Suddenly a third car joined the scene, fourth counting the beat up vehicle that Robert drove to work every day. A long-legged, buxom woman with unbound blonde hair stepped out, her shades covering her eyes even though it was a bit cloudy. She wore a tight, lethally tight ebony leather corsette, a cut-off jacket with long sleeves and low-hanging jeans with ass-kicking three-inch heel pumps.

"Oh, good. You're here." She adjusted the shades to look at Dante with visible astonishment.

Dante grinned at her. "'Lo, Trish. Happy to see me? It'd be nice if SOMEONE was."

"I'm thrilled. Did Tim fill you in yet?"

"Not yet. Not much to fill me in about, he says. At least anything that a human can tell me." His eyes flashed with recognition. He felt Trish's own aura caress up against his in response. She was something else, and he had known her a long enough time to feel comfortable with another demon. If he trusted anyone with demon blood very much at all, it was this beautiful woman right in front of him.

She hid her guns inside that little jacket. Her eyes crackled behind the shades as she gazed at the house. "Lady and the girl inside?"

"Yeah. Her name's Nina."

"I remember the first time you called me about her; back then, she was just 'the brat'." Trish had smiled now, that lovely man-eating smile she used on Dante whenever she had the chance. "Now she's graduated to having a name." She stroked the bridge of her nose thoughtfully, then she laughed. "I can't believe it. Living with a bunch of women hasn't made you soft yet? When are you gonna shelve her and find a real woman, Dante?"

"Can we stick with the missing person? It's her mom. The sooner I can get this over with, the sooner I can go home and take a long nap." He planted his hands firmly on his hips, his thumbs stroking the metal of Ebony and Ivory suggestively.

Trish let out an exhausted sigh. "All right. I can see you're in no mood for catch-up banter. So, here's what I've got. The last place I saw her mother was here."

"In the house?" Dante arched an eyebrow.

"No. I mean right here, in the street." The demon woman sat on the roof of her car, her ungodly beautiful face growing thoughtful. "Like I told Officer Tim here, it was the middle of the night and I was perched out here, watching her. I had better things to do that night, trust me." She glared at him, pulling her shades down to do so. "But then suddenly the air... thickened. It got so hard to breathe I was surprised I managed to stay conscious long enough to see her disappear completely. There was a red flash of light and then... gone. As if someone had snatched her out of the street."

"What else did you find out? Anything weird? Prickly? Unpleasant?" Dante was talking about the kind of spikiness Dante sometimes felt when a malignant _other_ presence had forcefully entered through a dimensional tear. Like shattering glass, demons broke through to pounce on unlikely prey. The air left behind would be especially prickly, like constant radio static - only all over the skin. Other psionic-sensitives could feel it, especially half-demons or paranormal entities.

"Yeah. But I didn't see if anything came out. It just happened so fast." The corners of her mouth turned down. She fidgeted nervously. "You can still feel it if you stand here. Come closer."

Dante stepped over, and the tiny hairs on the back of his neck raised. A dull humming that only very few could possibly detect made his molars feel like they were vibrating. He looked toward Tim and Robert. Both men were engaged in a one-sided heated conversation in low, intense voices. Dante wasn't bothering to make sense or try to listen more closely.

"He's going to complicate this. How can we ditch him bringing Heaven down on us?"

"I already have that covered." The buxom woman smiled with all a devil's familiar cunning. "Timmy's going to leave the supernatural trail-sniffing to us while he takes our good old boy on a run around to search the usual places again."

"I thought you said he might have been on the trail," Dante said after a moment. He was still standing close to her, bathing in the rasping touch of the air where a dimensional hole had been ripped not long ago, pulling the mother of a girl he cared about to the-Devil-knows-where. "Was he wrong?"

"I thought there was a trail. Lady said that?" Trish cocked her hip. "Well, he was. He went to the cafe by the liquor store to see about something, if anyone had spotted her there. I followed after him as discreetly as I could and he was talking to someone at the counter, a man dressed in black. Sounded like they were arguing. Then the man up and left out the back door."

"Which way? Did he disappear?" Hungry again for the familiar hunt, his eyes sparked with fanatical eager anticipation.

"I'll show you as soon as everyone piles into the car." She chewed her lip thoughtfully for a moment, then jabbed Dante in the side with her elbow playfully. He oofed, rubbed his side. Glared at her. "Better go check on your little girly toy."

"I told you-"

"I know!" A breathless little giggle. "I've never seen you so flustered. Jesus, it's gonna be fun working with you again."

A little unenthused, "Whoo-hoo" later, Dante was walking up the front step into the house, ignoring a choked protest from Robert. He was not in the mood to be held back and now that every other woman in his life was jumping on the Dante's-a-cradle-robber-so-let's-get-on-his-case bandwagon, the half-demon was starting to dip into the pissy spectrum of his mood-o-meter.

Nina's bedroom was upstairs. When he followed the path of upturned couch cushions and randomly tossed aside items, he realized this panorama of mass destruction was all Nina. It had her worry and anxiety staining everything she had touched like an oily residue, scented with spice and patchouli.

She was upstairs with Lady, who was respectfully hanging back in the hallway, watching her flip through dozens of midnight blue pleather journals filled with pages upon pages of sweeping hand-writing. Dante had seen the neat, blocky handwriting Nina used when making shopping lists, so he was certain these had to be her mother's.

"I don't think I've ever been in your bedroom, actually." Dante stood in the doorway and peeped around. Everything was untouched, preserved by time, with a layer of dust over only a few things. It seemed obsessively cleaned. Her mother must have gone crazy waiting for her. A woman who loved her child dearly had to keep busy and had to stay sane somehow.

Dante's heart felt strange. A dull thumping. He suddenly labored to breathe. It was a struggle just to keep his voice calm. "This is kind of cute. I sort of imagined what your room would look like. And this is nothing like what I thought. Better, even."

"If you're finished." Nina, cross-legged, on her bedspread, her fingers flipping through pages, then reverently laying books aside. Feverishly going through other pages. She was a mad-woman. "I'm looking for something."

"Like what?" Dante stepped into the room, trying to move slowly. As if he were trying to preserve evidence at a crime scene.

"Any indication. My mom writes in journals. Keeps everything in perspective, she says. So I'm hoping there's something in here about... about a strange visitor. Ex-boyfriend. Anything! These are from my mom's closet, but they were by the garbage cans, like she wanted to throw them away." Nina looked up, her eyes red and puffy.

Dante would done anything in that moment to make her smile and forget anything was even wrong. Call him sentimental, but a guy had to make sure his girl was happy.

He caught his breath and answered, "Good thinking. Maybe if we can find out what he even looks like, we can narrow down the usual list of suspects. We have a list... unregistered demons wandering the world, trying to fit in. If he's among any of those, we can get a fix on him and-"

"That's the idea," Nina interrupted firmly. "See, I know what's going on here. Nina's on top of it. She's got it together. She's all over it like white on rice."

Dante smiled. "So what have you found so far?"

"It's hard... see, she was dating my... dating Richard for six months before they got married. Then mom had me _after_ they got married and stuff. So you can see why I feel like crap looking through this, trying to find signs of my own mom's infidelity."

Dante's brow creased. He delicately sat down on the edge of her twin-sized bed and caught some pleatherbound books about to fall off. He laid them on top of her TV. "Hey. It's not like that. Sometimes demons just... arrive. Just like that. It only takes one, right? It's true for demons. She might not even have known she was impregnated with a demon's seed. She could have been asleep and come away from the assault with only a vague, steamy memory of a dream." His eyes glossed over. "Some people can only be so lucky."

A woman had been assualted in her own dormitory single for weeks. Every night, the same nightmare of a monster preying on her. She told the college psychologist that she felt something violating her every night and she was losing sleep as well as her mind from it. No one would believe her. When a paranormal investigator finally got involved, she was worn so thin and ragged she could barely stay with it to give a statement about her experience. The demon was repelled through some high-level magicks and stopped preying on her, but she would never be able to sleep without the haunting illusion of being raped. It was not a PG thought.

"But what if she was in love with a demon?" Nina scowled at the words on the page.

_'I met a strange gentleman at Michael's today. I was looking for a specific kind of paint that they don't carry anymore, apparently (this makes me extremely unhappy! Now I have to drive all the way to the next town over to see if they're limited selection at Wal-mart has it!) I was surprised to find him watching me very intently while I opted to buy some new camel brushes instead. He asked me what I liked to paint - not if I liked to paint, but what was my subject. I told him sometimes portraits. Landscapes and clouds. I don't know why I told him this. That I was fascinated by the heavens. He said he was fascinated too. Then he walked away. Now that I think about it, I can't remember what he looks like.'_

"Your mom painted all of those downstairs?" Dante's eyes widened appreciatively. He whistled.

"Yeah. She has an art room, but she hardly has time anymore. We just store old clothes and Christmas decorations in there now. All boxes. This is dated before I was born." Nina gulped. "Oh... Dante."

"Yeah?"

"Does it take nine months - like with, y'know, fully human baby things?"

"Far as I know. I'm a demon bounty hunter, not a demon nursury maid."

"Didn't anyone ever tell you about your birth?"

He shrugged.

Lady barked out a short laugh. "Dante doesn't like to talk about his childhood much. Goes without saying he doesn't like to talk about his baby days either."

"As if I would remember!" Dante snapped.

"Like he said, we usually just kill demons if they start trouble."

The teenage girl nodded. Gulped so hard, Dante heard her throat clicking as he sat beside her. She dug around in a pencil cup for a highlighter and started to highlight dates and began to read more fervently now.

"Oh my god."

Lady went rigid, her eyes flashing with interest. "What is it?" she snapped. "Did you find something?"

"Before I was born, my mom met the demon... who I'm... going to assume is my dad." The teenager licked her dry lips as she paged slowly. "She starts writing franticly about him like-" A quick page turn back and forth, "-a month later. She sees him again at the old store when she goes back, then again at Wal-mart." A mad, irresistible urge to giggle temporarily choked off coherent, intelligent thought. "Demons in Wal-mart."

"Then what? What does she say? What does _he_ say to her?" Now both Lady and Nina had crammed themselves onto Nina's perfect bed bed, shoulder to shoulder, while the girl balanced the book on her lap within a fresh plume of dust. Three pairs of avid eyes scrolled the not-so-neat handwriting as the woman franticly wrote about her experience, meeting with a demon - who spoke frankly with her about paintings, art, mom's pagan religion. She wrote obsessively over his eyes which she described again and again as golden as the center of the sun. Constantly burning through her.

_'Kimel. Kimal. Kilem. His name. I can't remember his name. He tells me every day, but that's all I can hold in my mind, as if it was a small cup that can only hold so much and his name is a flood. I wish I could remember. Why does he intrigue me so?_

_I met him at the cafe this time. I just decided to visit that old cafe down the street from the liquor store like I used to when I was just a high school girl. Got myself a cappuccino and sipped at it, and in he walked, as if he belonged. Just him, him and that big black coat that he never takes off, even when the warmth of the radiator heaters is too harsh even for me.'_

Nina blushed all the time they were reading. "This is... too much. This is my mom's private thoughts. And besides, he... he sounds nice. Dante," she turned to the half-demon. "Is it possible... that he was nice?"

"We're trying to find out who kidnapped her, remember?" Dante's voice had turned an ugly timbre. It wasn't harsh, but it was cold. It was Serious Business. _Is he pissed?_ thought Nina, and realized this was probably hard for him to learn about her demon self. _Does the fact that he is half-demon bother him that much?_ "Focus on what's most important - whether he cared about her in the past doesn't matter much now." He slid off the bed, taking one long, lingering look at Nina's old belongings. Then he shrugged them off too, as one might disregard the empty cocoon of a butterfly.

Maybe none of the things in the room mattered to him, but it made Nina's heart completely ache with fresh wounds. Her whole body resonated with the room. Her changed attitudes tried to reconcile with the childish things that used to be hers. Her patheticly out-dated laptop sat unmoving by her small TV, which her PlayStation 2 was hooked up to. A stack of games, manga monthlies, a box of miscellaneous art supplies, dresser, tiny mirror. Teenager things for a teenage girl. Everything she had tried to connect with when Dante was going to school with her. Everything she tried to bring with her but left behind in the wake of discovering she would never know the kind of normal life women know. Even Lady had a slightly more normal life than she did. Sure, she hunted demons, but when she went to bed at night, she was a human woman with regular human needs.

Nina still didn't know what it was like to be what she was, really. Except she never got sick, or had scabs or scars or things that required time to recover from. Even her periods were light. It was ridiculously hard to resume Life As Usual when you could cut your finger cutting vegetables and not notice until it was already healed.

Maybe none of the things mattered to Dante, but they would always matter to Nina - because she could never be that girl again. Whoever Dante was before he lost his brother and parents was probably long gone, too.

She closed the journal after she dog-eared the page. "All right. So what should we do?"

"Where's that cafe? Trish mentioned your dad going to one, speaking to a man there. Yelling at him, I guess. Arguing. So we'll go there first. See if he's still sitting around."

The three of them collected the journals and put them in one of Nina's old suitcases from the closet. Dante's business-like manner was his best defense against whatever was going to go down once they tracked down anyone who happened to know what had become of Nina's mother.


End file.
